Test Subject
by j3nnee
Summary: OPR kidnaps Neal and Peter is on the hunt. Spoilers from first season, whumpage, hurt, comfort and all the other stuff.
1. Chapter 1

**(Test Subject)**

Peter paced the small quarters of his office. He cursed silently to himself, brow furrowed with worry, body tense. Someone knocked, opening the door. Peter turned to see Hughes standing there, his boss' face stern with a hint of concern.

"Peter, go home. When we find something out, you'll be the first to know." Hughes walked over and patted Peter on the shoulder. Peter looked at the older agent with an angry frown.

"I can't! He trusted me and this... I have to find him, Reese." Peter growled, his brown eyes flashing in anger at the situation. Hughes stepped back but his stern expression didn't change.

"It's not a request, Peter but an order. Don't make this ugly. I want to see him back too. Please, just go home. Calm down. I'll keep you informed. I promise." Reese's voice had dropped a bit near the end, his emotions evident. Peter finally nodded, but he still looked angry. He picked up his jacket and walked out of the office and went down into the lobby. Jones glanced up at him curiously as he passed but Peter was in no mood to socialize. He pulled the glass doors to the outer hallway open and took the stairs.

Peter trotted down the stairs quickly at first then more slowly as he started to calm down a bit. Halfway down he stopped and sat on the step, running a hand through his hair as he thought about what had happened.

It had started out as normal work day, Peter eating breakfast with his wife Elizabeth before going to pick up Neal from June's. Peter kissed his wife good-bye and took off in the Taurus. He made it to June's in record time and honked once, waiting. Ten minutes passed and still no Neal. Peter killed the engine and walked around to June's and knocked. June answered, opening the door with a curious glance.

"Agent Burke. What a pleasant surprise. Did Neal forget something?" She had a surprised look on her face, Peter blinking at her comment.

"I don't think so. Is he ready to go?" Peter had the feeling he was missing something important. June ushered him inside and closed the door.

"Neal already left with the other agents. You didn't know?" She looked worried now, Peter's face expressing confusion.

"Other agents. I didn't authorize him to go with anyone else today. Did Neal tell you anything?" Peter was upset now. Something felt wrong here. He saw June nod.

"He said someone else was picking him up from the Bureau. That he received a message saying you would meet him at wherever they were taking him. Neal looked surprised but not suspicious. They picked him up in a black sedan. I didn't notice the plates. I'm sorry, Peter." June paled slightly but he shook his head and smiled slightly.

"Not your fault. You couldn't have known something was wrong if it looked legit. I didn't text him though." Peter pulled out his cell and dialed a number. He heard it ring and then someone pick up.

"_Peter? Hey I... What are you doing?_" Peter could hear Neal's voice sounding a bit panicked, movement in the background, the sounds of struggling and then a click as the line went dead. He tried calling back but line kept coming up as busy. Peter cursed and called another number.

"_US Marshall's._" The voice on the other end was professional and to the point. Peter replied back quickly.

"FBI Agent Peter Burke requesting details on tracker 9305 Alpha. Neal Caffrey." He heard typing on the other end and then the voice reply back.

"_Agent Burke, tracker 9305 Alpha has just gone offline. Do you request back up?_" Peter turned and looked at June, her eyes wide with curiosity but he just shook his head, speaking clearly.

"No. Where did the tracker go offline? Is there a location?" He listened to the report, frowning.

"Thank you." Peter hung up and started back for the door. June stopped him, her hand gently grabbing his arm.

"Peter, is Neal ok?" Her voice cracked with emotion, Peter looking at her helplessly.

"June, I don't know. I'll call you when I know more." He felt her fingers release his arm, his own hand reaching to grasp hers.

"Don't worry. You know I'll find him." He gave her a fierce grin, her expression brightening some.

**(Earlier that morning...)**

Neal woke up early in anticipation of his ride to work with Peter. They had a new case that involved visiting the MoMA. It had him intrigued if not happy to visit a place he rarely got to see. He had barely gotten out of bed and pulled on his robe when he heard his cell vibrating. He picked it up off the nightstand and saw a new text.

_**"Neal, change of plans. I have a car coming to pick you up early. The agents will fill you in. - Peter"**_

Neal blinked, looking at the message briefly and shrugged. He jumped into the shower, groomed and picked out a dark blue suit from the wardrobe. He matched it with a dark pinkish red shirt and black skinny tie with reddish stripes. He looked in the mirror and smiled. Neal was excited about working, Peter giving him more leeway lately. He was learning to be more by the book although Neal still strayed when it helped to make things more interesting. Hughes seemed happy with him as well. He turned from the mirror as he heard a soft knock and the door open.

"I think your ride is here. Peter isn't picking you up today?" She looked curious, the young man shrugging.

"Apparently something came up. I think I'm meeting him there. He arranged for some other agents on the case to pick me up." He sounded a bit disappointed, flipping his hat up onto his head with his usual flair. Still he had a small frown on his face underneath that mask he wore. June gently brushed a bit of lint off his shoulder and straightened his lapels.

"I'm sure it's nothing. Just behave yourself. Ok?" She winked at him, Neal grinning back.

"You know I always do, June." He bent down to kiss her on the cheek, walking arm and arm down the stairs with her. At the bottom she hugged him gently and watched him leave. When he walked over to the official looking black sedan, he turned briefly seeing June there in the doorway waving at him. He waved back and smiled, only turning back when one of the agent's coughed impatiently at him. Neal narrowed his eyes at the man, slipping into the back seat, another agent slipping in after him. He stopped halfway, another agent already in the back seat when he entered the vehicle and two more in the front including the one who had coughed at him. It was cozier than he expected.

"So, Peter sent you to take me to the Museum. What's keeping him?" Nobody said anything, both agents on either side of him staring ahead or out the window silently. All of them wore sunglasses, another factor that made Neal slightly nervous. He liked seeing people's eyes. Eyes were the window to a person and right now he was feeling like someone had boarded up the windows so he wouldn't see something he needed to. He glanced up at the rear-view mirror as the driver coughed.

"You'll be meeting up with Agent Burke soon. Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Mr. Caffrey." The agent's voice was terse and to the point, Neal nodding but feeling that something was going on. Why would Peter have this many agents pick him up? He wasn't going to run. He twitched slightly as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.

"Peter? Hey I... What are you doing?" He had barely answered the call when the agent to his right grabbed the cell, Neal fighting him for it. The agent on the left grasped one arm around his waist, his other hand held something metallic. Neal didn't have time to react as he felt the item touch the back of his neck. The taser stunned him, the first agent successfully taking his phone and throwing it out the window. Neal felt the taser hit him again, the young man slumping against the one who had taken his phone.

"We meant to ask you nicely but if Burke's already calling you, we don't have time for niceties." Neal tried to raise his head but the agent on this right pulled him close, pushing a cloth over his nose and mouth. A sickly sweet smell filled Neal's nostrils as he fought weakly then felt the world swirling into a deep black hole. He heard one last thing before he passed out.

"This is Agent Thomas. Yes, turn it off. Thanks."

**(Searching...)**

Peter knew that the vehicle that had Neal would already be gone from the last known location of the tracker. He drove straight to the office, calling Jones along the way to let him know what was up.

"So he didn't run. I was going to call you but when we got the report they said you had already checked in as it happened. How did you know?" Jones sounded curious. Peter just sighed.

"I didn't. June told me Neal had been picked up by some '_other'_ agents. I called him and he barely said two words before his captors took out his phone if not him. Something stinks here, Jones. I'll be there soon."

**()()()**

Peter looked over the data on the screen showing Neal's path from June's to the last known spot before his tracker went offline. Jones looked confused as well. They pulled up the traffic camera information but it seemed the car had managed to avoid any obvious tracking by taking routes that only showed side views if not overhead views of the vehicle. There was nothing remotely distinctive about the car other than it was a plain black sedan. Peter cursed, slamming his hand on the desk. Jones jumped as did a few other agents.

"Peter calm down. We'll find out what happened." Jones would have said more but there was a cough from behind as Hughes walked up. Peter turned to look at his superior, the older man reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Burke, I need to talk to you in my office." Hughes saw Jones standing up and motioned for him to sit back. Peter whispered quickly.

"Find me those phone records, Jones. Thanks." He followed Hughes up the stairs to his office, Hughes closing the door behind them and closing the blinds.

"This is in strictest confidence I tell you this. I've already scanned this room for bugs before you got here. You're not going to like this, Peter." Reese sat in the chair nearest Peter and motioned for him to sit. Peter sat, his eyes on Hughes.

"Reese, what's going on? Why all the dramatics?" Peter was upset, his manner tense. Reese held up a hand.

"Peter, remember Neal made the deal with OPR and Fowler?" Hughes sighed tiredly.

"It wasn't legit. Neal's supposed to be working with me here as a consultant. Why is this coming up again?" Peter was about to stand but Reese pushed him back down.

"Peter, they decided to make it legit. Someone involved with that operation took him. That's all I know. I have it on good authority they mean to use him under the workings of Operation Mentor." Hughes watched Peter rise, his face flushing red in anger.

"They kidnapped him? They sent a message to him as me! He didn't know what he was getting into, Reese! I need to find him!" Peter was angry, hitting his hand on the desk before he dropped back into the seat, hands gripping the armrests in impotent rage. Hughes reached out but Peter shrugged him off.

"I can't sit here, Reese. They took my partner! I have to find him." Peter tried to move past but Hughes stopped him.

"Peter, calm down! You don't think I'm not angry about this? Go home and cool off. I'm waiting for some calls about who might have him." Hughes was being reasonable, Peter nodding sullenly as he left the office and walked next door to his own. He closed the door, closed the blinds and paced, cursing to himself.

This wasn't fair to Neal. Peter had promised him protection after what happened and now he's been taken by the people who most likely killed Kate.

**(Kidnapped!)**

Neal woke up to the sound of people talking around him. His head hurt, temples throbbing, ears ringing. A slight nausea overcame him but he held it back, feeling something like cloth stuffed in his mouth. His lips were sealed with what he thought must be tape. Neal continued to lay there, vertigo making him feel like he was laying on a huge spinning wheel, even though his eyes were still closed.

_"Burke is smart. He'll figure out what happened. This was a dangerous move!"_

Their voices were soft, hushed whispers but near enough he could still pick up enough of their conversation. Neal tried to move but felt himself securely strapped to some kind of cot or gurney. He tried to get his eyes to open but his eyelids felt heavier than normal.

_"Burke knows nothing. Besides, we have permission to put him out of commission if necessary. It has to look like an 'accident,' ok?" _

Neal felt himself stiffen at the comment, trying to move his body but still unable to respond. He stopped struggling, what little energy he had leaving him. Neal shifted slightly hearing a soft creak as he moved. The voices went quiet a moment.

_"He's waking up!"_

Neal heard hurried footsteps nearing. Suddenly a hand grasped his chin and turned his head to one side, baring his neck. He struggled weakly, someone dabbing his neck with what smelled like alcohol. Soon after he felt something jab his skin, warmth emanating from the site as the drug took effect. Neal felt them let go, his head lolling to one side as he felt consciousness fade to silence.

**()()()**

_"Neal..."_

He heard someone calling him. He struggled to wake up.

_"Neal... wake up."_

The voice sounded somewhat annoyed. It was familiar.

"Neal!"

He opened his eyes and found himself looking up at several blurry figures in suits. He shifted as much as he could against his bonds but they drew closer, his vision beginning to focus on their faces. They wore masks, each person dressed as someone he knew. One of them looked like Peter, another like Hughes and the last one like Jones. He looked up at them curiously unsure of what to think. The one that looked like Peter suddenly punched him hard in the stomach. Neal gave a muffled groan through his gag when the other two started to take turns punching him in the chest and stomach as well.

Neal couldn't do anything to defend himself as he lay strapped to the gurney. Nobody spoke but he just saw those blank faces, the masks that looked like his friends and coworkers pummeling him as he fell into unconsciousness.

**()()()**

Neal woke up sometime later, eyes staring blankly as he twitched against his bonds. There were electrodes connected to his head and body, along with several IV drips. His body shuddered in response to something traumatic, several men in white suits approaching him, one of them baring his neck as another swabbed it and injected him with a syringe. Neal continued to twitch until whatever the drug was took effect and his eyes rolled back and closed. His face contorted slightly as if he were in pain, eyes moving beneath closed lids.

"He's not reacting well. If he's going to work for us, we need him to follow directions. He can't refuse orders." A man in a dark suit spoke to one of the physicians in white coats. He seemed to be in charge. The Dr nodded.

"We're doing what we can but his history shows him to be non-violent. I can't guarantee a change in something that is vital to his character." The doctor saw the man in the suit nod stiffly.

"Just do what needs to be done."

**()()()**

Everyday, they came and beat him up. He was helpless to do anything as he lay on the gurney. The one that had Peter's face liked to pinch his nostrils so he couldn't breath. Neal could do nothing to fight them, his brain beginning to think Peter and those he trusted had really come to kill him. He had nightmares about Peter chasing him, Hughes standing on the sidelines with Jones ready to join in on the torture. He winced at the thought, the pain incredible and yet someone was there to help him. He didn't know who but they had a kind voice. The man said he wouldn't let his friend's hurt him anymore if he just listened. Neal wasn't sure what the catch was but after several days he didn't care. The man seemed more than happy to help him. Neal could only just see the man's shape, his face hidden behind a white mask.

"Who are you? Why are you helping me?" Neal croaked after a particularly bad session. He could barely speak but the man brought him water and tended his wounds as he lay there. The man just shushed him, calming him down, the gold ring on his finger (an FBI pin forged on a band of gold) almost a security when he saw it. Neal came to look forward to the man's arrival. Then one day the man came to talk to him one last time.

"I'm going to have to leave you for a while, Neal." The man's voice was final, Neal struggling to free himself but the man touched his forehead gently, the cool metal of the ring comforting against his skin. He calmed down a bit, leaning back against the gurney. Neal was exhausted. The man had a small vial in his hand, opening it up and holding it to Neal's lips.

"Drink this and you'll forget till the time is right." Neal nodded at the man's words, trusting him as he drank the bitter liquid. The man gently caressed his hair and spoke to him softly.

"Sleep Neal."


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Peter spent most of his free time looking for Neal. Elizabeth began to worry about him when he didn't sleep. He just made phone calls and typed away on his laptop using what information he had to locate Neal. Peter was half-dozing, poised over the laptop when she walked into the living room. She gently pushed him to a more comfortable position, throwing a blanket over him. Suddenly, his cell rang and Elizabeth picked it up as her husband lay slumped on the sofa.

"Hughes? Hey." She walked a few feet away so as not to wake her husband. Her voice was soft.

"He's sleeping, finally. I think he wore himself out. Peter's spent all his free time looking for Neal." She listened and nodded, walking over and gently nudging her husband.

"Peter... Peter wake up." She watched her husband move slightly then finally open his eyes and look up at her blearily.

"Hughes is on the phone." El handed him the cell and sat beside him, gently caressing his hair. Peter smiled at her sleepily, pushing the cell to his ear.

"Reese, what's going on?" He sounded less than awake, yawning slightly as he listened to his boss. His eyes widened, Peter practically jumping to his feet.

"They did? Where? Ok, I'll be right there. Thanks!" Peter stood a little shakily as he pushed his shoes on. Elizabeth looked at him as she stood and turned him around towards her.

"And where do you think you're going?" He turned and blinked at her, his eyes a bit glassy from lack of sleep.

"They found Neal. He's at the hospital. I'm going to go see him." Peter walked over to the door and grabbed up his jacket and keys. Elizabeth coughed, blocking the doorway. He looked at her curiously, Peter too tired to comprehend much.

"You're not going anywhere till you shower, shave and change those clothes. And then I'm driving. Ok?" She took his jacket and keys, turning him around and pushing him upstairs. Peter didn't protest for once although he really wanted to just see his friend. El pushed him into the bathroom, hugging and kissing him.

"Take a shower and I'll set some clothes out." She closed the door and he heard her footsteps echo down the hallway.

**()()()**

Peter took a hot shower. Big mistake. The water relaxed him so much he practically fell asleep standing up, only waking when El wondered what was taking him so long. Peter finished washing up and turned the water to a chillier temp to wake himself up before he stumbled out. He threw on his bathrobe and looked in the steamed up mirror, wiping it with a hand towel. He got himself shaved and looking a bit more like himself before he left the bathroom and padded over to their bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed sleepily, yawning and stretching. Elizabeth hugged and kissed him.

"You sure you don't want to rest up first, Peter? You don't look so good." She sounded worried but he shook his head.

"I'm tired but I need to see Neal. I want to be sure he has someone there for him." He stood and started to pull on his clothes in a fumbling manner till he finally finished dressing, El walking him downstairs. She handed him his jacket and grabbed her own.

"Let me drive." She pushed him ahead of her out the door and locked up.

**()()()**

Neal looked bad. He was bruised and battered but the doctors and nurses said nothing vital had been damaged or broken. The young man was connected to several IVs, his body dealing with a slight bit of dehydration if not neglect from laying in one position for several days. The physicians had found a high amount of sodium pentathol in his system along with several other drugs used to keep people calm. They were sure the chemicals would pass out of his system in a few days without any damage. There were ugly chaff marks on his arm where it was evident he had been strapped in. Peter wanted to cry, Elizabeth looking about the same but helping him cope as they stood there and looked down at their friend.

Peter sat in the chair by Neal's bedside and grasped his friend's hand in his. He noted the bruise and chaff marks around the young man's wrist and felt anger rising in him. OPR had kidnapped him using his name to trick the young man into going with those agents. The phone records showed his phone had not sent the message but it had been redirected through his cell service which had been hacked. If he ever found out who did this...

"Peter, you need to rest. I left our information with the nurse and doctor so they can contact us. Ok?" She walked over and hugged him gently, placing a hand on Neal's shoulder as she bent down to kiss him on the forehead.

"Neal, I hope you can hear us. It's Elizabeth. Peter's worried about you. We'll be back to see you soon." She gently caressed the young man's hair, brushing a few strands from his face.

"Come on, Peter. You need to rest."

**()()()**

Peter didn't wake up till nearly 1 am, finding himself in bed, but Elizabeth wasn't there. He slipped out of bed, pulling on his robe and left the bedroom as he headed downstairs. The living room was dimly lit by one lamp and the TV. Peter found his wife curled up on the couch, a throw wrapped around her and a cup of coffee, now cold on the table. He could smell coffee in the kitchen meaning she'd left the coffee maker on. He bent over and kissed her cheek gently, Elizabeth rousing. She looked up at him with soft blue eyes smiling.

"I didn't wake you did I?" She sat up and he shook his head, sitting beside her.

"No, I woke up and you were missing." He hugged her close and she leaned into him, nestling against his chest.

"I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Neal. How could anyone do that to him?" She sounded angry, Peter turning her face to look at his.

"I don't know. I'm going to find out which part of OPR did this. They took him from us by deceit and I intend to do something about it." Peter hugged her close, both of them snuggling there a bit before she gently pulled away.

"I smell the coffee machine. I think I left it on. Did you want any before I turn it off?" She picked up her cup of cold coffee, watching him shake his head. She nodded with a slight smile, walking over to the kitchen and disappearing inside. She returned a few minutes later with two glasses of water, handing one to Peter as she sat beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. Peter put his arm around her and they just sat there in silence, trying not to think of anything but Neal's fast recovery.

**()()()**

It was at least three more days before Neal showed any signs of consciousness. He didn't stay awake for long periods but the nurses and physician were able to get some idea how well he would be when he did finally wake up. They checked his eyes and vitals to be sure there was nothing wrong or any side-effects from the drugs but so far he was healing as expected. Peter and Elizabeth went to see him everyday, June visiting when she was able. She brought him some clothes for when he woke up along with a few other items he might find convenient and familiar.

Peter stayed in the room as much as he could hoping to see his friend wake up. Neal remained asleep for the most part, his eyes moving beneath closed eyelids. He sighed hoping the young man was dreaming something good, talking to him as much as he could to let him know how much he was missed. Neal weakly grasped at his hand but otherwise he moved very little, his face pale and slightly flushed as he remained unconscious. It took another three days before Neal finally woke up.

Peter had fallen asleep on the sofa in the hospital room. He woke up when he felt a shadow standing over him. Neal was standing there, blue eyes glassy and blankly staring down at him. Peter rubbed at his eyes and blinked, sitting up.

"Neal? What are you doing out of bed." Peter stood, reaching to grasp his friend's arm when the young man moved noticeably away from him. He paused noticing the expression on Neal's face: fear. Peter couldn't understand it, moving back. It must be a side-effect of the drugs. Neal looked at him as if he was going to hit him, one arm up near his face but Peter just held his hands up as inoffensively as he could. He saw Neal move away from him as he moved forward to lead him back to his bed.

"Neal, you need to rest." He grasped the young man's arm and felt Neal stiffen noticeably his eyes widening in terror. Neal collapsed to the floor and curled up crying.

"Please... don't hurt me! No more!" He was yelling now, Peter unsure what to do as he realized Neal wouldn't let him help. He went to the bed side and pushed the nurse call button. A nurse showed up almost immediately looking at the scene and Peter curiously.

"I woke up to found him standing over me and then he started to panic." Peter looked absolutely helpless about the situation, the nurse nodding and gently touching the young man on the shoulder. Neal twitched instinctively, looking up to see the nurse there, his eyes moving to look at Peter with absolute fear. Peter frowned sadly. The nurse helped Neal back to bed and started to hook up all the IVs and monitors again.

"It's ok, Mr. Caffrey." She turned to Peter who looked shocked and surprised, her face kind but professional.

"He may just be confused, it happens when they wake up from these sorts of experiences. Can you please wait outside?" She looked towards the door, Peter nodding reluctantly, his eyes watching Neal recoil from him as the nurse continued to hook up IVs and monitors, settling the young man down. Peter walked out of the room his mind trying to wrap itself around what had just happened. He sighed, sitting on the nearest seat in the hall. He looked up as he heard footsteps and saw El approaching him. She hugged and kissed him as she sat beside him noticing his expression.

"What's happened, Peter? Is Neal ok?" She sounded a bit panicky but he calmed her down and tried to smile.

"He's fine. He's awake." He said it in a less than excited manner which got her curious. She pulled his face towards hers.

"Peter, what's the matter? If he's doing well, why do you sound so sullen?" She caught the look in his eyes but wasn't sure what it meant. He turned and stood, pacing a bit before pausing and looking back at her.

"I woke up from napping on the sofa and he was just looking at me. I stood and reached to help him back to bed and he acted like I had hit him." He looked upset, pacing again then turning and sitting back down. Elizabeth understood.

"He's probably just confused. We don't know what they did to him." She saw him turn and he shook his head.

"It was more than that. He was afraid of me. He collapsed and curled up into a ball, covering his face as if I was going to beat him!" Peter's voice cracked with emotion, his eyes watering slightly.

"I can't understand why he would be afraid of me. The nurse told me to leave, he was that upset." Peter leaned back in the seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Elizabeth blinked, kissing him on the forehead.

"Let me go see him. Maybe I can find out what's up. Ok?" She saw him nod, his eyes closed. Elizabeth patted him on the arm before she stood and walked towards the room. She knocked softly before entering. The nurse was still settling Neal down, the young man looking like he had seen a ghost, face pale, eyes wide and terrified. He turned with a jumpiness El had never known him to have as she entered the room. The nurse turned and frowned slightly.

"I'm sorry, but we're not allowing visitors at the moment." Her voice was kind with only a slight edge of mistrust. El nodded.

"I was just curious how he was. My husband told me what happened. I hope you're feeling better Neal." She turned to leave.

"El?" It was Neal's voice calling her. She turned back and he was staring at her with a little bit calmer expression. His manner almost seemed apologetic.

"Tell Peter I'm sorry. I don't know why I panicked." He was still shaking. She smiled back at him before leaving again.

She stepped out into the hallway and leaned on the wall. Neal was afraid, something she'd never seen except during the incident a few months back. El sighed, walking over to Peter who had apparently fallen asleep. She nudged him softly. He snorted awake and sat up, noticing her expression.

"You're right. Something is wrong. I've never seen him look so frightened of anything. He told me to tell you he's sorry." Peter blinked at her words but nodded.

**()()()**

Neal had been having a horrible nightmare. There were three of them, their faces a blur. They hit him continually, never giving him any rest despite his muffled cries of protest. Finally it ended and one of them had held his nose, the air flow blocked. He struggled till they stopped and laughed at him quietly. Neal could do little but lay there, tied to the gurney helpless. Then he woke up and found himself in this hospital room. He was hooked up to machines and found himself reasonably cleaned up, bruises and pain still evident. Neal pulled the IVs and other monitors off of him, easing himself out of the bed. He turned and saw someone sleeping on the sofa in the room. He walked over and saw it was Peter. He felt secure his friend had come to see him as he stood there, staring at the sleeping figure.

Suddenly Peter woke up and looked up at him. He was smiling, although sleepily. Neal was about to speak when Peter stood and suddenly this feeling of dread overcame him. He saw the figures coming at him, about to hit him again. Neal moved back, seeing the look on his friend's face. Peter tried to approach him slowly, wanting to help him back into bed but the impression of those figures beating him came vividly to him again. He collapsed to the floor, curling up in a protective ball. He was crying, afraid.

"Please... don't hurt me! No more!" Neal found himself yelling, feeling them hit him in his mind's eye. He was afraid. Terrified!

Neal thought back to that moment feeling badly that the nurse sent Peter away. He wanted to talk to Peter but something had made him feel fear at his friend's presence. Elizabeth had come in afterward and tried to visit but for the nurse. The nurse was protecting him although he felt badly for making her think Peter had done anything to him. He hadn't. El had looked worried at him as he made his apology to her for Peter. He would have to talk Peter again later. He sighed to himself and leaned back in the bed. He felt exhausted, his ribs and stomach still sore even after the 6 days or so they nurse and physician had said he slept. He had seen the ugly bruises on his chest and abdomen, wearing a tee June had left for him to hide the injuries. He looked at his arms and winced, vague memories of being strapped down coming back to him. He had been secured to that gurney without relief for several days. He knew that much, shivering at the thought.

Another day passed, Neal wishing Peter would come back. He still thought of everything that had happened just over a week ago and wishing he had someone to talk to. He was feeling isolated, a guard outside courtesy of the Bureau, Hughes and Peter. He wanted to go home, forget everything.

"Mr. Caffrey, you have a visitor." Neal blinked, drawn from his thoughts back to reality. He looked up to see a man in a dark suit who looked fairly official. He didn't recognize the man but there was something oddly familiar about him. He tried to think what it was made him think he knew this man. The nurse exited the room leaving them alone, the man standing in the entrance a moment before walking forward. The man wasn't all that memorable, dark hair, hazel eyes and a fairly normal face with no remarkable features and yet he felt familiar to Neal. The man pulled the chair out and sat beside the bed without speaking, those hazel eyes just looking at Neal, sizing him up he thought.

"You must be with the bureau. I can't think of anyone else in a suit that would come to visit me like this." Neal was trying to be funny but the man seemed to take his comment as gospel nodding at him in an official manner. He blinked at the man unsure how to react.

"Hughes called me in as a special favor. That's how we ended up finding you. My name is Alistair Gordon. I work with OPR." Neal just stared at the man, the word OPR making him stiffen with suspicion immediately. How could he know this person wasn't here to take him away again. He had only been told a little bit of what had happened. Neal watched the man's expression turn to that of curiosity.

"I know you aren't very trusting of the Bureau much less OPR. I don't blame you with all that's happened." He took a cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

"Reese, it's Alistair. I'm visiting with your consultant. Yes, Caffrey. He's awake and wants to talk to you." Agent Gordon passed the cell over to Neal who took it after a moment, his face still full of suspicion as he pushed it to his ear. He spoke as clearly as he could.

"Hughes?" He waited till he heard the gruff voice of Peter's boss.

"Caffrey, how are you doing? I guess good if you're talking on the cell." Hughes had paused. Neal spoke quietly.

"I'm feeling better, sir. Thanks for looking for me. I know Peter was worried." His voice remained quiet despite himself. Hughes answered in his usual tone only more friendly.

"I guess Gordon called because he told you he was from OPR. He's a friend and I trust him. I wouldn't have sent him to see you otherwise. Just tell him what you can to catch the agents in charge of this." Hughes sounded genuine enough, Neal nodding at the phone.

"I will, sir. Thank you." He handed the phone back to Agent Gordon, the man speaking as it reached his ear.

"Not a problem Reese. Yes, I will. Say hi to your wife for me. Yes Rita says hi back. Bye." The agent hung up the cell and pushed it into his pocket, his smiled professional if nothing else as he looked at the young man. Neal seemed a bit more comfortable but his guard was still up and ready. Gordon continued to look him up and down.

"So, are you comfortable talking to me now, Mr. Caffrey?" He was smiling although it seemed the man was making an effort to do so, his manner professional more than anything. Neal nodded ever so slightly but kept his arms crossed over his chest to express his continued skepticism. Gordon nodded holding out a hand. Neal was reluctant to shake but he took the man's hand. He felt a little prick on his finger and something flashed in his mind. He blinked as the memory hit him, his mind blanking a moment as he slumped back against the bed and twitched slightly, eyes rolling back. He felt a hand on his shoulder as someone shook him.

"Mr. Caffrey?" Neal couldn't respond, the seizure taking over as he shuddered in the bed, hands holding him down gently. After a moment he was vaguely aware of nurses and doctors there, checking his vitals as the machines beeped and reacted to his fit. He just lay trapped there unable to do much but deal with the situation as it happened, trapped without words. Someone pushed something into his mouth, it held his tongue down and it kept his teeth from trying to grind into one another. People talked around him their voices nothing but soft buzzing sounds, his vision but a blur as if he were looking through opaque glass. He continued that way for who knows how long before he lost consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

Peter was in his office when Hughes stopped by and knocked on the door. He looked up from a pile of case files and tried to smile but he was still rather wore out from his search for Neal. He'd taken some days off but had not completely recovered from his lack of sleep or his worry over his partner. He had wanted to visit with him but had resisted after the other day. Hughes stepped inside and closed the door. Peter blinked, thinking this must be something official.

"I know you're less than trustful of OPR after everything Fowler put you, Neal and Elizabeth through but an old colleague of mine who works there is trying to help alleviate some of the damage. He just called me because Neal wasn't sure he could trust him even though he mentioned my name. I don't blame him." Hughes pulled a chair up and sat down with Peter who was nodding grimly.

"I don't either. I'm guessing he was satisfied when you told him your friend was there to help?" Peter didn't sound convinced, his suspicion of OPR still evident. Hughes shrugged.

"Maybe. He seemed to accept my word but it was hard to read his voice. He sounded pretty beat up." He leaned over and looked at Peter.

"So, how are you dealing? I know you took this hard and I'm sorry I had to let you stay away from it for a few days but it was necessary. You understand?" He patted Peter on the shoulder.

"I understand perfectly but I would have liked to be there when he was extracted. I deserved that much. He's my partner!" Peter sounded somewhat bitter but held it back as he tried to reason with all that happened over the past week. He was still dealing with Neal's reaction to him in the hospital room.

"If you want to talk, you know you can come to me, Peter." He stood, Peter following suit.

"Thanks, Reese. Would it be too much to ask if I could duck out early to visit Neal?" Peter pulled his jacket up and started putting it on as Hughes nodded.

"Of course. Let me know how he's doing. Tell him he's missed."

**()()()**

Peter showed up at the hospital barely 30 minutes later and found the guard on the phone outside Neal's room. He looked upset, looking up briefly as Peter came into sight. The agent hung up and walked determinedly over to him. Peter didn't like the looks of this, staring at the agent curiously as the man approached him. His face looked pale and he seemed less than happy about something.

"Agent Burke... I don't know how to say this. I just got off the phone with Hughes. I'm so sorry." The man looked more than upset, his green eyes tired looking but more than that he seemed reluctant to say anything more though Peter knew there was more to come by the agent's expression. What could have happened in the few minutes he had taken to leave the office and drive to the hospital?

"I don't understand. What's..." He saw the room that Neal was in being cleared out of equipment. He paused looking at the nurses and saw the doctor making motions as they pulled a gurney out with a covered form. Peter paused, his eyes stuck on the covered gurney. He heard the agent talking to him but he moved passed him without listening and walked slow at first then more quickly before the doctor and covered figure could leave. He took the edge of it in his hand as she turned to see who was next to her. She paled slightly, recognizing him and looked at him with sad eyes, nodding at the orderlies to wait.

Peter just stared at her a moment then down at the sheet-covered form. He was frozen as if someone had hit pause on everything, the world stopping as he just stared. It took ages it felt for him to finally make a move and get his hand to react to his brain. It pulled the sheet aside and he gasped, his eyes turning warm and wet immediately. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at the pale form of Neal Caffrey laying there on the gurney. The young man was still, more so than he had ever known him to be. Peter felt a kind of strange calm take over as his mind tried to rationalize that this must be a joke. Some cruel prank played upon by him by Neal and the hospital staff. He nudged the young man ever so gently.

"Very funny, Neal. Wake up. Neal, this isn't funny." He was shaking the young man gently the doctor watching him curiously, her voice speaking to him but he didn't hear it. He kept trying to wake up Neal but he wasn't moving. Peter felt everything go blank around him after a moment as he lost track of time. When he came to, he was lying on a couch in the waiting room Elizabeth standing over him looking worried, her face pale and blotchy, eyes red from crying. She was still sniffling, hugging him and holding him.

"Peter..." She couldn't say anything else, her body shuddering with emotion. Peter nodded back, sitting up stiffly and holding her but he was still feeling that blankness. His senses weren't working nor was his brain, everything on auto pilot. He should be crying but he was frozen solid, everything turned off, isolated as he tried to comprehend what he had seen. The doctor walked by and started to talk to him. Ask him how he was. He nodded without really hearing and she said more things he didn't comprehend before moving on her way. His mind was occupied by one thing and one thing alone. Neal was dead. He was really gone. Peter felt something on his cheek but he wasn't sure what it was, looking up to find the source of the dripping and realized it was his eyes. He was crying, but how... he felt nothing as the water works started. El held him tighter talking but again, he didn't hear. The shock made him deaf to all but this emptiness. He felt his body shuddering slightly and then finally he buried his face in his wife's shoulder and cried.

**(An hour later…)**

Hughes showed up at the hospital when he heard the news. Elizabeth was with June in the lobby, both women taking comfort in each others company. Peter felt frozen, unable to express anything more than hollow words. He was still in shock. Neal was dead. He still couldn't believe it, excusing himself after a moment to take a walk. He found himself wandering the hallways till he came back to himself and realized he was in the depths of the hospital. He couldn't remember how he got here but then he was pretty far gone with emotion. He was glad to be alone, the floor quiet. He kept walking trying to figure things out when he saw something odd. Hughes had introduced him to his friend from OPR, Alistair Gordon. The man had been there when Neal died. He had expressed his condolences his manner cool and professional. Peter disliked him immediately or maybe he was still angry that he had been there with Neal instead of him. He wasn't sure but why was Gordon here? Peter saw the agent walking ahead of him and entering two swinging metal doors. Peter followed quietly, his curiosity piqued as he noticed the sign above the doors: Morgue.

Peter peered inside but saw no one. He pushed the doors open and nearly collapsed to the floor. Neal lay on the examination table, arms laying on his chest as if he were merely sleeping. Peter felt his eyes watering again, tears rolling down his cheeks as he moved closer, reaching to touch his friend. The young man looked pale, his cheeks sunken in. Peter touched Neal's hand, stroking it gently. He could feel more tears falling as he bent over his friend and pushed his cheek to the young man's chest.

"I'm sorry, Neal. I'm so sorry. Forgive me." He felt an immense sorrow wash over him, a hand gently touching the back of his neck. The hand felt cool but it caressed his hair and then Peter realized who it was as he stood up. He saw Neal's hand moving, the young man making a soft sound, eyes still closed as he drew in a shallow breath. Peter blinked.

"Neal? Neal..." He was relieved, shaking the young man gently as he took his hand in his. Neal's eyes remained shut, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if he were having a nightmare.

"Neal... you're alive!" He hugged the young man, pulling out his cell once he got over the surprise. He started to dial Hughes when some one grabbed him from behind, a rag pushed over his face. He dropped the cell with a clatter to the ground, the rag filling his nostrils with something sickly sweet. He struggled against the person, unable to see anything but Neal, the young man coming slowly back to life. Peter felt the world start to spin around him, his head growing fuzzy as his eyes closed and he passed out.

**()()()**

Peter felt the world spinning around him in the darkness. He wanted to be sick but fought the nausea, his hands trying to grip at something but unable to. His eyes popped open showing him a blurry scene. He was staring at a cold gray ceiling of stone. Peter tried to rise but found himself strapped down securely to some kind of cot or gurney. He couldn't move a muscle but to shift his torso ever so slightly. He made a muffled sound, rags stuffed into his mouth, a piece of tape firmly planted over his lips as he moved his head to look around the room. He saw another gurney in the corner with another figure strapped down. It was Neal. Peter made the loudest sound he could considering the circumstances and tried to shake the gurney but found it was bolted to the floor. It didn't matter, he heard a weak groan from his friend after a moment, relief washing over him. At least Neal was alive. He hadn't dreamed it.

He was still confused where he was and why, but knowing his friend was alive had made all the difference to his demeanor. Peter remembered little of what happened beyond entering the morgue and seeing Neal there. He tried to make a phone call and then everything had gone black. He looked around the room but there was nothing to look at other than gray walls and Neal across the room. He turned his head as much as he could at the sound of a door being opened somewhere behind him. He saw a man in a white mask enter the room, dressed in a dark suit that seemed vaguely familiar to him. If the mask didn't tip him off to something, the gold FBI ring on the man's left hand did. He thought back to the black and white photo Neal had showed him and this man's hands seemed to fit the profile. The figure closed the door and walked over with soft footsteps, standing over the bound agent. Peter gave a muffled protest, his face flushed with anger. The man clucked his tongue at him from beneath the mask, voice cloaked by some kind of device.

"Such spirit. You don't scare easily do you Agent Burke?" The man pulled something out of his pocket, a small cloth case and started to slowly unfold it.

"I'm sure you've heard of acupuncture? Pressure points can do much more than heal. Under the right circumstances they can render an opponent helpless." The man finished unfolding the small case revealing it's contents. Inside could be see several thin needles. Peter's eyes widened, his head moving but his body barely shifting, he was strapped in securely. The man laughed.

"Don't tire yourself out now. We've only just begun!" He pulled out a needle and grasped Peter's chin in his free hand as he lay the small case of needles on the edge of the cot.

"If I don't do this just right, I won't just blind you, I'll kill you. So please, Agent Burke… don't move a muscle." His voice was humorless as he pushed Peter's head to one side and slowly inserted the needle just behind the agent's ear. Peter tried to struggle, his eyes widening and then he blinked. He continued to blink, the man letting go of his chin as he moved his head and blinked again.

"Having trouble seeing? That's the idea. You won't know what I'm going to do next. Still... if you choose to let us have Caffrey, perhaps I can see it in my heart to letting you go with just your vision gone. You'd still be an excellent agent without your sight. There have been stranger tales. Or maybe I'll just take all feeling from below the waist." The man grasped his chin again and pushed his head to the side sharply. Peter couldn't see anything, only feeling what was going on. Something sharp pierced his skin just below the base of his skull and he gave a muffled groan as he lost feeling in his legs. He made sounds despite the gag, his eyes watering as he stared blindly ahead.

"Enough though... just nod your head if you wish to give your rights to Caffrey up. We require his skills to retrieve some items of interest." The man's voice was slick but Peter shook his head, narrowing his view despite being blind. He felt the man pinch his nostrils shut, cutting off his air supply. Peter struggled as the man continued speaking.

"Are you sure you want to fight to keep him? I'd hate to have to be the one to tell your wife you died in vain. Is he really worth making your wife a widow?" Peter struggled to breath, nodding his head despite his lack of air. The man let go and he struggled to breath through his nose again. He felt the tape and rags pulled from his mouth, a wheezy cough coming from his lips as he inhaled deeply.

"You... can't... ha... ve... hi...m!" Peter coughed out as he tried to breath normally. The man laughed at him in the darkness.

"Such a noble and chivalrous man you are, Agent Burke. It's a shame we don't agree. I really do respect your abilities as an agent but Caffrey is ours now." The man grew silent, only a soft sound of shifting making Peter aware the man was still there. He didn't know what to expect, feeling a hand unbutton his shirt, lifting up his tee.

"I believe the pressure point here will cause your lungs to fail. Let's see how well that works." Peter felt warm hands touching a part of his chest till it hurt, the soft prick of a needle following. He tried to resist when he heard another voice.

"Don't... hurt him!" It was Neal. His voice sounded rather breathless.

"Peter, let them have me. Go home to Elizabeth." He sounded hopeless but worried for the agent's well-being. Peter shook his head.

"Neal, no... you don't have to do what they tell you to do. I won't let them." He still couldn't see anything, only hear the soft movement of the masked man and Neal's breathing.

"Peter... go home. I want my freedom even if it means working with them to get it. I'm theirs. Please... just leave me alone!" Neal sounded angry, Peter struggling against his bonds despite the pain. The masked man chuckled.

"Well, Agent Burke... It seems your little protégé wishes to leave." The man stopped pushing the needle into Peter's chest, the sound of a door opening and more footsteps.

_"Take him. I'll be there momentarily." _Peter could hear the man whisper to someone as he was untied from the gurney, his arms bound behind him and then dragged away.

**()()()**

Neal didn't want to be here, he remembered now who this man was. The man in the white mask was Hughes' friend. Peter wouldn't know that. He heard the man chuckle at him.

"So you would stay with us if he is saved? Why do you care about someone who's kept you as a pet?" Neal stiffened at the man's words, glaring from where he lay bound to the gurney.

"Something you wouldn't understand. Just let him go and I'll comply." Neal's voice was cold, his blue eyes narrowing at the man. The masked man nodded, turning to leave.

"You choose well, Caffrey." The man spoke with no emotion.

"Just keep your word, Gordon." He saw the man stiffen and turn, the mask hiding his emotion as he nodded and left. Neal leaned back and sighed. At least Peter was safe. One last thing he would have to worry about.

**()()()**

Peter's arms was bound at the elbows, his legs bound above and below the knees as well as at the ankles. He struggled weakly against the men that dragged him outside. The hallway was just as gray as the interior of the room had been. He heard a door open and heard someone walking towards him with determined strides.

"He's a willing participant now but only if he thinks you're alive." Someone pushed a rag into Peter's mouth and pulled another piece of tape over his lips.

"Caffrey can think you're alive but that doesn't mean you have to be. Hold him!" Peter struggled harder but they held him tightly.

"I told you, just one needle right here would stop everything. Or appear to stop it." Peter felt the man touching his chest, something sharp piercing his skin slowly. He could feel his body reacting to the pressure, his heart beat slowing, breath growing more shallow.

"You'll feel everything and know what's going on around you, but you'll seem by all appearances to be dead. Good-bye Agent Burke." He could hear the man chuckling as his body fell into a kind of half-sleep.

_"Take him to the crematorium."_

**()()()**

"So they just dropped this person off? What's the story?" The man looked confused at the body in the coffin. The man looked healthy enough, dark brown hair, late 30s early 40s. Man barely looked dead. The other man shrugged.

"Beats me. Said it was his uncle and he had died suddenly. They don't have money for the big funeral so they're cremating him." The man passed a clipboard over and the first one nodded.

"Ok, I'll put him in the queue." He sighed, rolling the coffin over to a conveyor belt and placing it on top. He was going through the coffins one by one checking them out to be sure they were all good. He came back to the newest one and looked at the man again. He just looked too fresh to be a dead person, the pallor missing. His cheeks still seemed to have a slight flush to them, the appearance of life spooking the crematory employee.

"Well, I guess you're next." He spoke aloud to himself, peering briefly into the box again when something caught his eye. He reached in curiously and saw a tear rolling out of the corpse's closed eye. That was odd, watching as more tears rolled down the sides of the dead man's cheeks. He pulled the coffin aside reaching inside and touching the man's face. It was still warm, as were the tears.

"Hey Barney! BARNEY!" He ran over to the other guy and started talking to him excitedly, pointing back at the coffin.

**()()()**

Peter woke up in the hospital. A week had passed since he'd been brought in or so he'd been told. Elizabeth was there when he woke up again, her blue eyes pink from crying and lack of sleep.

"Hey sleepy head. How are you feeling?" He looked at her unsure what to say, his voice escaping him as he stared at her, the room and then at the ceiling. What had happened? He remembered Neal and himself in a room and then the man with the mask. He kept looking around in a daze till El sniffled, drawing his attention back to her. She was holding his hand and he gently squeezed back. She was real.

"El?" His voice croaked as he stared into her blue eyes. She nodded, hugging him close and he shifted feeling his legs again. He looked at them in surprise and smiled ever so slightly, the smile turning to a frown as he thought about Neal.

"Neal..." He muttered, El looking up at him.

"They haven't found him yet. Hughes and Jones are on it." She smiled at him confidently, Peter nodding.

"They still have him. I just don't know who they are. The man had a ring." Peter's voice trailed off as he remembered. He saw El nod, her face worried.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I'm sure they'll find him." She moved her cheek next to his and kissed him. He moved to kiss her back, his arms wrapping around her securely.

"He's working for them because they let me go." He was shaking now, emotion overcoming him as he thought about the deception. If only he knew who had done this, he'd get them. El shushed him gently, caressing his hair and cheek.

"Relax, Peter. Rest and get better. Hughes and Jones are looking for him. They said they'd call when you woke up."

**()()()**

Jones showed up the next day, the agent looking a bit tired if not frustrated. Something that was rare. Peter smiled at the younger agent and they shook hands.

"I see you're looking better boss. It was a close call there." Jones looked relieved, Peter nodding.

"How did they find me? I don't remember much." Peter looked a bit confused.

"Uhm… you were found at a crematorium. One of the employees noticed tears coming out of your eyes and realized you weren't dead. They sent you to a hospital where they couldn't figure out what was wrong till they did an x-ray. Apparently someone had used pressure points to make it appear you were dead. They removed all the needles and then well, here you are. Your image was passed around as a John Doe till you showed up on our radar." Jones sounded relieved if not a bit upset.

"Acupuncture. He tried to kill me. Make it look like I was dead. I couldn't see anything." Peter's voice sounded tired, shifting his weight as he tried to get comfy in the hospital bed. Jones nodded.

"Well, whoever it is, we've had a heck of a time trying to find them. Nobody could tell us who it was brought you in. Said you were their dead uncle. Paid in cash so nothing could be traced that way. Nothing remarkable about the man who brought you in and no surveillance cameras in the place. We only have one possible lead." Jones sounded suddenly upbeat. Peter looked at him curiously.

"A lead to what? Neal or my kidnappers?" He sat up a bit more, listening. Jones smiled.

"Well you said that they needed Caffrey's skills to get some things they wanted. There have been a string of unsolved thefts in the city. Small items but items of great value nonetheless. The thefts stink of Caffrey's style although the only sideline is that some of the people have been gassed or otherwise taken out. That's definitely not his style." Jones sounded somewhat disappointed, Peter nodding with a frown.

"Yeah, Neal wouldn't hurt anyone. He would just go in and do the job and not bother interacting with anyone. Must be the OPR people doing this. I can't see him being violent." Peter curses silently before he gave a frustrated sigh. Jones seemed to understand.

"I know how you feel, Peter but for now, you can't get involved. Hughes won't let you on the case 1) because you're still out of commission and 2) because you're too close to this. Still, I don't mind accidentally spilling some info to you off and on if you think you might have an insight." Jones let his voice trail off, Peter grinning in reply.

"Sounds like a deal. Let me know what you find and I have an idea to smoke Caffrey out or at least let him see who he's working for. Might help us get him back and catch the bad guys."


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter 4 - three weeks later)**

Neal felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up as he opened his eyes and peered up sleepily. The man wore dark clothes, a gun holster obvious under his left arm and a white mask over his face. Neal just stared at the man blankly.

"Hurry up Caffrey. We're on a time table!" The man hissed at him, smacking him on the back of the head. Neal narrowed his eyes at the man angrily but no one could see from beneath his own mask. He nodded despite himself and went back to working on the safe. His eyes were blurring in and out of focus as he worked on the combination. He shook his head a bit to wake himself up, a steady throbbing in his temples. He turned the dial and heard a click, the last number in the combination and opened up the safe. Inside were several items of value including money but they only wanted one thing. Neal stared at it curiously, the jade box shimmering in the dim light. It was an ancient and very beautiful Chinese puzzle box. He didn't know why they wanted it but that's what Gordon had asked for.

"Ok, let's pack it up and go!" The man who had yelled at him said again. Neal nodded wearily, passing the box to the man who pushed it into a small pack. They closed up the safe and cleared out, passing through the small corridor of the museum offices, leaving. Neal was in the back of the group, his headache increasing, his legs starting to feel like jelly as he stumbled behind the others. He heard them in the distance it seemed as he tripped and collapsed to the floor. He was panting, his breath coming hard despite his lack of movement. He heard someone hiss in the distance.

"Where's Caffrey?" He heard soft footsteps and then saw a light, turning to see a guard looking at him. He put his hand to his eyes to visor them against the light, looking up from where he sat on the floor. He heard a gun cocked and could just make out its outline in the light.

"Stay where you are! I've already called the authorities." The guard sounded sure of himself, Neal nodding his head in surrender, hands up. He wasn't going to fight in his current condition. He was too tired. He felt the man reach down and pull something off his shoulder. It was a gun. Neal never carried a weapon by his own right but Gordon had insisted all of them have a gun, even Neal. He had no choice in the matter but he was happy to be rid of the thing regardless. The guard's walkie-talkie went off distracting him. Neal heard someone cocking a gun behind him and turned to see another man in black with a mask. The figure pointed the gun at the guard and shot, only a soft popping sound heard from the silencer. Neal's eyes widened as he saw the guard collapsed to the ground and lay twitching there. He moved to his knees and crawled over to the man, seeing a large red stain appear on the man's chest.

"Come on Caffrey. We have to leave now!" The man was hissing at him but he couldn't go. He was watching the guard gasping, hand on his chest where the red stain was growing. Neal pulled off his mask, removed his jacket and tried to stop the bleeding. The man was going to die! Someone pulled on his arm and turned him around.

"Leave him! He's a dead man. We have to go now!" The man in the mask spoke coldly, Neal turning to see the guard looking at him desperately. Neal couldn't let him die. Not like this.

"No, he's dying. I can't... "He turned back to the man, holding his hand over the wound to stop the flow but it didn't last long. The other masked man whispered at him angrily.

"We aren't leaving you behind." There was the sound of something sizzling and then Neal felt the shock of a taser on the back of his neck. He slumped to the side, eyes staring at the dying guard. He tried to move but someone grasped him up and threw them over their back. Neal was carried away from the scene, watching the guard disappear as they left the hallway and climbed out into a loading zone and piled into a dark van. He was thrown unceremoniously into the back, the man following as they slammed the door shut.

**"GO! GO!"**

Neal lay there on the thinly carpeted floor of the van. He had to catch his breath, his face feeling warm and flushed from weakness. Someone pulled him up and pinned one arm behind his back as they pushed him into a sitting position. It was the man who'd shot the guard, mask still on.

"You almost screwed up the operation, Caffrey. We could have been caught or is that what you wanted?" The man continued to hold him there, Neal too weak to move, wincing at his arm being twisted back behind tightly. The man drew closer and whispered.

"I miss the days I could just beat you silly." The voice was cold and menacing, another hand covering his mouth and nose. Neal struggled as the man held him there and slowly suffocated him. The other masked men, three in total were watching in silence, no way to know what they were thinking through their masks. A door opened between the cab and the back and another figure ducked inside.

"Thomas, stop that!" The voice was commanding but Thomas continued to hold Neal in his death grip. The man yelled again, pulling out a gun.

"I said stop it now!" He glared at the man, Neal finally gasping for breath as the masked man let him go if only reluctantly. Thomas removed his mask, his brown eyes glaring angrily.

"I don't see why we need him. We could have hired any two-bit thief but you had to have him. Why?" Thomas sounded bitter, sulking some as he sat there. Gordon put the gun down and smiled coldly.

"He's the best. We need the best to get the best. Don't forget that! _HE_ is not replaceable." Gordon let that hang in the air while he looked around at the group, everyone finally removing their masks. Neal slumped back and wheezed, trying to catch his breath, blue eyes narrowing as he glanced up at Thomas. Gordon noticed and smiled.

"Listen up! We still have a few more items to take. I'll have you briefed once we get back to the compound."

**()()()**

Neal was exhausted. He liked the idea of breaking into hard to get to places but under the circumstances and conditions it wasn't much fun. OPR had taken him in, at least this offshoot had but he was still a prisoner. Basically an implement used when needed. During the off hours they kept him drugged and bound in the gray room. He dreaded those times, this time. He had gotten them the box, the jade box they'd asked for and yet he was treated like nothing more than a tool being put back in the box till needed. He struggled as they held him down and bound him to the gurney again, Neal crying out in protest. Someone pushed his head to one side, his neck bared. He smelled the scent of alcohol, something cool applied to his neck before the sting of the syringe into his skin. He fought weakly till the drug entered his system and he could no longer fight. He felt his eyes flutter shut and darkness overcome him.

He started to dream. Neal was sitting in Peter's office, feet propped up on the far side of the desk. He was folding an intricate origami flower out of blue paper; a crocus. He had written a note in it to Peter just out of boredom.

"Feet off, Caffrey!" Peter strode in looking a little impatient, case folders stuffed under his arm. He dropped one off on Neal's side of the desk, the young man complying as he picked up the folder and twirled it on the desk idly. Peter turned as he sat down and looked at him curiously, his eyes falling on the blue flower.

"For me?" His voice sounded bemused, picking up the flower and looking at it a moment. Neal grinned.

"For your grumpy mood." Neal smirked, opening up the case folder and peering down at the information. He blinked, rubbing at his eyes. Peter chuckled.

"Yes, it is another mortgage fraud case. I know how much you love them but it's an important case. Tell me what you see." Peter smiled ever so slightly, watching Neal nod.

He sighed, his eyes scanning the file boredly when he heard the soft crinkling of paper. Neal glanced up surreptitiously to find Peter opening up the paper flower. He looked down quickly when Peter glanced over. The crinkling continued, Neal holding back a chuckle as he saw Peter reading the note inside lips moving silently. Neal looked back down again, Peter coughing as he pushed the note into his pocket and opened up the folder to read it.

After about 30 minutes of note taking and discussion, Peter closed up the folder. He stood up, stretched and grabbed his jacket. Neal blinked up at him wearily.

"Well?" Peter asked, putting his jacket on as he looked at his partner. Neal looked confused.

"Lunch... aren't you hungry?" Peter was smirking now, Neal nodding with a smile as he closed the file, stood and grabbed his own jacket. He started to follow Peter out of the office when he found himself staring at a blurry gray ceiling.

Neal blinked, vision clearing slightly as he looked around to find himself back in that gray dreary room. His head throbbed, nausea threatening to overcome him as he lay strapped to the gurney. He fought back the taste of bile, his stomach hurting him. Neal raised his head weakly, looking around the room and hoping someone would come and free him. There was no clock so he had no idea what time it was or how long he had slept.

Neal lay back after a moment, his stomach threatening to rebel when he finally heard the latch on the door open. He turned to see Thomas there, the agent looking well rested but grumpy. He paused as he saw Neal looking back at him and noticed the desperate look in the young man's eyes. Thomas took a moment to stretch and yawn, staying by the door as if he knew what was wrong.

"Did you sleep well, Caffrey?" His voice was filled with sarcasm, walking slowly towards him. Neal bit his lip trying not to throw up. Thomas just grinned evilly sitting beside the young man and staring at him.

"Is your stomach bothering you again? Shame..." He clucked his tongue with mock concern, looking at his fingernails idly. Neal couldn't hold back any longer as he vomited to the side, some of it getting on Thomas. The man cursed, slugging Neal.

"I don't understand why Gordon finds you so irreplaceable!" Thomas left the room leaving Neal to suffer, another agent coming in a few minutes later. The man cursed at the smell, untying Neal and tossing him to the side roughly as he tried to clean up. Neal lay there on the floor, his cheek against the cool cement as he slumped against the wall. After a moment the man cuffed Neal and dragged him out of the room to the break area and bathroom.

"Be quick!" The agent removed the cuffs and waited outside.

Neal washed up as best he could, removing his shirt and rinsing it off in the sink. He washed his hands and mouth, splashing some water on his face. He looked tired as he stared into the mirror, the reflection he saw unrecognizable. He looked gaunt, his cheeks sunken in, eyes pale with bags under them. He felt like crying but he didn't, wringing out his shirt as best he could and putting it back on. He missed June, Peter, El... and especially Mozzie's visits. Neal pegged his experience to his own fault. Karma. He had done wrong and now wrong was being done to him although now he was still doing wrong so how that worked out, he didn't know. He smoothed back his hair wanting a shower but knowing unless Gordon showed up he wasn't going to be treated well. He sighed and turned, heading back for the door. The man opened when he knocked and cuffed him again, leading him like an errant dog back to the room. He was cuffed by one ankle to the floor and a small table had been brought in with some food. It wasn't much but it was something. He ate the clumpy oatmeal, overdone toast and watery juice imagining it was June's bowls of fruit, eggs Benedict and that Italian roast Peter loved. It made it more palatable but just barely. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on like this but if it meant his friends were safe it was worth the torture.

**(Meanwhile…)**

Peter hadn't given up looking for Neal, trying his best to help Jones in his quest to figure out the meaning behind these thefts. Most of the artifacts taken were priceless Chinese puzzle boxes, items not too unlike the amber music box. How they all connected was still a mystery. He had hoped when they posted the fake obituary of his death it would flush out Neal, if not the people who had him, but nothing happened and the mystery just deepened as to where Neal was being kept and by whom. Hughes was on top of it with his friend from OPR. Peter had issues with dealing with anyone from that department but at the moment they didn't have a choice. He kept thinking that he was forgetting something important. In the past three weeks he had pieced together an idea where they might hit next but he needed to talk to Jones again.

"Honey, you need to rest. Let's go out for a drive." Elizabeth plopped down beside him on the sofa where he sat with a pile of papers spread out before him. He nodded without really hearing, his attention on the papers. She hugged him close and whispered.

"I think UFO just landed in the backyard." He just nodded at her vaguely before he paused, feeling her lips on his cheek and he turned and kissed her back.

"UFO? Sorry honey. Just... this whole Neal thing. I can't believe nobody in New York City can find him. It's not possible!" He was frustrated, standing up and pacing as El watched him.

"Honey, he must be ok. You said Jones found evidence of his style at these recent thefts. There's still a chance to get him back." She saw him nod but he didn't look hopeful.

"I keep thinking I'm overlooking something. I just... I need to walk. Where's Satchmo?"

**()()()**

Peter didn't just walk Satchmo, he dropped the dog off and went for that drive with his wife stopping at the FBI offices. El smirked at him and his sly nature.

"This is a drive?" She grinned facetiously at him, Peter shrugging helplessly.

"I need to pick something up. I'll only be a moment." He reached over and hugged her, Elizabeth removing her seat-belt opening the door. Peter stared at her a moment.

"Well? Let's go." El waited for him to walk around and take her arm, both of them going into the building. They took the elevator to the offices and walked into the lobby. Jones was still at his desk, busy looking over paperwork. Peter tiptoed over and stood there till the man looked up curiously.

"Hey Peter. What brings you here?" He turned when he saw El standing nearby looking at Neal's old desk. Jones whispered.

"I have some new info." Jones looked around and kept his voice low, Peter nodding.

"What did you find out?" Peter said quietly as he sat down beside Jones and looked over the notes.

"This last theft had Caffrey's style all over it except for the guard that was shot." Jones frowned on the last part, Peter mirroring his expression.

"He wouldn't shoot a guard. It must be someone on the team with him. Neal doesn't do guns." He sounded frustrated as Jones nodded.

"Exactly. Guard says he caught one of them, the thief looked rather tired and worn out. Even let him take his weapon but then another thief, all of them with masks, shot him. The one he had caught tried to help him, wrapping their jacket around the wound. The thief took off his mask and the guard got a hint of his features. They matched Caffrey's. Says he wouldn't leave till the other thief knocked him out and dragged him off." Jones looked hopeful.

"Neal hasn't given in to them yet then if he's still able to care that much. But why did he have a gun?" He ran a hand through his hair, smiling ever so slightly as he patted Jones on the shoulder and grinned.

"Thanks."

**()()()**

Neal finished as much of the food as he could, avoiding drinking all of the OJ since his stomach was still acting up. He leaned back onto the gurney, curling up as much as he could with the manacle on his ankle. He groaned in pain, eyes watering from the discomfort. Neal lay like that for some time before he felt a warm hand on his forehead and heard someone arguing.

"He threw up and you didn't think to tell me or do something about it! He's the reason we're able to get these artifacts. Call Jared in. He used to be an EMT. I need Caffrey well for the next heist." It was Gordon's voice but he sounded like he was talking about taking a car in to get fixed. Neal groaned softly, trying to disappear but feeling little comfort. He heard Thomas' voice speak begrudgingly.

"I thought he was faking. He is a con." There was a sound of a slap and a loud intake of breath.

"Idiot! Just call Jared in already. I need him well!"

**()()()**

Jared was a bit nicer to Neal. He made sure Neal was fed better, kept hydrated and rested for a week under Gordon's watch. Thomas would come in off and on but just glared at the con, muttering under his breath. Neal was delirious most of the time, the fever keeping him under wraps more than the drugs they had been giving him. He was not escaping in his current condition.

Neal kept dreaming about June's, sitting out on the terrace in his silk pajamas eating good food and talking to his landlady. He felt the cool breeze whipping through his hair as the dream went on. He imagined his bed with the soft cotton sheets and duvet. His nice clothes in the wardrobe were there for him to choose from as was his own personal bathroom. It was the best memory... 'fantasy' that kept him alive till the fever broke and reality set in. Neal wanted to cry but he didn't now that he was better. Gordon checked on him as if he were a prized poodle, praising Jared's efforts for healing him and looking forward to getting back to the next heist.

It had been just over a month he'd been trapped with these rogue agents, a virtual prisoner. His expertise was needed for breaking and entering, the locations chosen by Gordon. Neal didn't think he had succumbed to _Stockholm syndrome_ but he had grown strangely comfortable with the setup despite being trapped. It wasn't anything like his situation with Peter where they had a give and take. Here he just gave his talents and was lucky they acknowledged his presence beyond making sure he didn't run. He wouldn't, seeing he had nowhere to go.

"Think you'll be ready for tomorrow's heist?" Neal looked up from the cot, his expression languid but he nodded. Gordon smiled, his white teeth showing.

"Yes." Neal kept his answer short, Gordon nodding with a pat on his shoulder.

"You're part of the team; an important part." Neal nodded at the man's words but he didn't believe them. With all he had experienced he knew he was only useful while he lived. If he died... it would only be an inconvenience. Maybe they'd use Keller and break him out. Neal shuddered at the thought.

"So you've told me." Neal rolled over and closed his eyes but opened them when he felt fingers tighten around his throat.

"Just remember, I spared your friend or he would be dead now. Don't make me change my mind." Gordon held him tight till Neal nodded and he let go.

"Good, now that we're clear. Rest up." Gordon rose and left the room, the door locked from the outside. Neal curled up and lay on the cot as comfortably as he could with his ankle manacled and fell into a light sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**(Chapter 5)**

Peter sat in his office staring off into space. Normally he was pretty good about working on things, keeping busy but he had grown used to Neal's presence. He kept looking up from his work expecting Neal to pop in and say something to annoy him. Better yet, walk into his office and find the young man behind his desk with his feet up, folding more of his origami figures. Peter sighed, looking at the same page of the case file for the tenth time in over an hour.

"Hey boss…" Peter looked up to see Jones speaking from the open door. He waved his subordinate in and gave what little smile he could. Jones nodded a greeting, closing the door behind him.

"Hughes is talking to Gordon next door. They still haven't found anything showing where those agents took Caffrey. It's like he vanished off the Earth and yet signs of him are at every theft. It's a strange enigma." Peter muttered to himself more than Jones, the young agent nodding again.

"Peter, we'll find him. It's only a matter of time before they screw up. The last job where the guard was shot was sloppy. It was nothing like the case files you've showed me about Caffrey's heists much less my experiences with him. Something doesn't sit right here." Jones sounded like he was trying to dig something out of the mess of robberies and thefts they were investigating, Peter sure that they could figure out a plan if not a pattern.

"Puzzle boxes… the music box had something in it. I wonder if it's related to these other items. They're all separated by culture but are related in that they are all made out of earth bound materials. Precious stones, things that are rare and valuable. Something equally as valuable must be within or why all the heists?" Peter pushed the case file he'd been reading aside and started to type something out on his PC. Jones moved around to stare over his shoulder.

"The first box was made of ivory, a type that was hundreds of years old and only found in the most ancient of elephant burial grounds. It was originally made for a tribal chief and held his ashes and some small holy relics." Peter was viewing the information, a website showing an image of the box. It was an oblong box about 6 inches long and 4 wide, with wooden and gold inlay. The box by itself was worth a small fortune but whatever was inside he could only guess at.

"The box was on display in a temporary spot at The Museum for African Art on Broadway. It was under lock and key but someone managed to walk off with it. This was before they pulled Neal into the act so that gave them their first acquisition." Peter typed a bit more and brought up the next website.

"The second item was a beautiful but rare Faberge trinket box. One of the few made that wasn't an egg. It did have a stand on it for an egg but inside was supposed to be some sort of fabled secret hidden by the designer. Nobody had ever opened it to see because it required destroying a part of the object itself to get to it thereby insuring the item would never be opened. I can only assume this is what they wanted the box for." Peter zoomed in on an image of a small round box no wider than a silver dollar at best. It was ornate with a number of traditional Ukrainian _Pysanky _designs across the side and top, all of it encrusted with what appeared to be semi-precious gems and jewels in a yellow, red and green hues.

"It was found missing by the curator for the Ukrainian Museum when they were about to pull it out of storage for an exhibit during March. They contacted the authorities but found no trace of who may have stolen it or why." He pulled up another website as he finished talking, this one pointing to the Asian Arts Museum.

"The latest item where the guard was hurt, this was a jade box of red and green stone. It's shaped like a traditional Chinese dragon wrapped around a temple shaped box. The size is something like 5 x 4 x 3 inches. It's a particularly delicate piece with some rubies for the dragon's eyes and tiger's eye for it's claws and scales. It's said to be from the first dynasty of China when the first emperor was named." He paused looking at the picture of the item turning to Jones.

"I have no clue what's hidden in it. The box itself is valuable without anything being inside… all of these items are." He sighed in frustration, closing the window. Someone passed by the window and he turned to look.

"So that's what, four boxes if we include the amber music box? All created of natural stones. Maybe they point to something else?" Jones' voice sort of disappeared into the background as Peter glanced out at Hughes and his colleague. The man's back was to him but he knew he'd seen the man somewhere before. He needed to remember where.

"Peter… Peter!" Jones was trying to get his attention. Peter turned and nodded.

"I'm sorry. Got distracted for a moment." He turned back to the window and saw the man with Hughes turn so he could see his face. He strained to think where he'd seen the man but…

_A flash of memory suddenly hit him as he remembered walking into the morgue at the hospital. He had seen Agent Gordon entering. Neal's body had been there and then…_

Peter was still staring when the man turned and met eyes with him, blinking as if surprised. He turned his glance quickly back to Hughes and then left the building as if he were late for a meeting. Peter watched the scene in fascination. Hughes saw Peter and Jones in the office and knocked, opening up the door.

"Gordon says they still have no hints as to where Caffrey was taken. He's got some of his best men on it. Speaking of which, Burke, you should work with Gordon. You've made good in catching Caffrey in the past. Your expertise may prove valuable. I'm reassigning you to this case." Hughes was smiling although he always looked a bit scary when he did. Peter nodded, Jones doing the same.

"Ok then. You'll report here and wait for him in the lobby tomorrow morning." Peter stood and nodded again.

"Yes sir. Thank you." Peter watched his boss nod and walk back to his office, Jones looking at his superior curiously.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Peter. What's up?" He stood and stretched a bit, stifling a yawn as Peter grabbed up his jacket.

"Nothing yet but you might be right about the ghost bit."

**()()()**

Neal felt a hand over his face, strong arms holding him down against the gurney. He struggled against them as he slowly roused from sleep. Thomas was the one holding a hand over his mouth, partially squeezing his nostrils shut as some of the other men including Jared held him down securely

"Looks like we're moving to a new location, Caffrey. Swab his neck, Jared." Neal fought but there were too many of them. Neal saw Jared push a cotton ball to his neck and swab it, the cool sting of the alcohol as well as its scent evident. Jared tapped at a syringe, moving it closer to his neck.

No! He thought, fighting to escape but he was still too weak to do much against all four of the agents. He felt the sting against his skin as the needle poke through and the area slowly spread warmth through out his body. He kept struggling till his motions became less obvious and he felt his limbs go numb.

"Don't worry, we'll wake you up in time for the heist." Thomas' voice was cold. Neal felt a flame rise in him despite the drug, a flicker of fire that would grow when the time was right.

**()()()**

Neal was dreaming. He was standing across the street looking at June's. He looked both ways and ran towards her mansion, walking around the corner till he found the entrance. He knocked on the door but nobody answered. He reached inside his pocket for the key but it was missing. He searched everywhere till finally he realized he was already inside.

He blinked, unsure what was going on but he found the door locked again and he walked down the small hallway into the foyer and looked around the room with happy familiarity. He looked around but he didn't see June anywhere. He noticed the stairs and found his favorite fedora sitting on the banister. He reached to pick it up when he heard voices coming from upstairs. Slowly he started up the stairs, listening as the voices grew nearer and more obvious.

"I'm sorry Mozzie. I don't think I can come up here anymore. I just… It's not the same without him here." It was June's voice. He smiled reaching to knock on the door and surprise them till he heard Mozzie pipe in.

"It's your home June. You should enjoy it but I know what you mean. It just feels empty without him here." He heard Mozzie sigh, pushing the door open to see what they were up to.

June was closing the terrace doors, locking them up and pulling a curtain across them. She looked somewhat sad, her usual smile forced. Mozzie stood beside her, taking her arm in his as they headed back towards the door. Neal smiled at them but they walked right past him as if he wasn't there.

"It's like I've lost Byron all over again." She sniffled, her head bowed slightly as he saw Mozzie hand her a handkerchief.

"It's ok, June. Peter will find him. I'm sure of it." He heard a strange trust in Mozzie's voice for the Agent he'd never heard before. Would his friend ever truly trust that Peter was on the level? The thought hit him hard before another one took its place. Peter.

Peter found him in no time before he was jailed and when he escaped. He wondered why his friend seemed to be missing all the clues unless Gordon had changed the rules. He wouldn't doubt it but Peter normally saw through most deceptions. Why not this one?

Neal gave a little sigh, walking across the now empty, dimly lit rooms he once occupied. It really seemed he was here, his hand pushing aside the curtains and opening up the French doors to the terrace. He stepped out and crossed the Spanish tiled surface to the edge and looked out at the city. It was nearly sundown, the city bathed in a lovely golden glow of early evening.

"Neal?" He turned at the sound of a familiar voice. A figure stood inside the apartment bathed in shadow.

"Peter?" He started to walk towards his friend when the doors shut, blocking him. He saw the curtains close again as he pulled on the door.

"Neal, where are you?" He heard Peter's voice calling to him but he didn't seem to see him outside. Neal banged on the doors.

"Peter I'm right here!" He kept banging on the doors till he found himself coming to.

**()()()**

"Peter…" his voice muttered quietly as he woke up in the back of the black van. Thomas sat near him smiling in his cold manner.

"Missing your keeper? How sweet." Neal glared at the man, trying to sit up and punch the agent but feeling his arms bound behind him. He struggled to sit up, his eyes narrowing at the man.

"Say that to me when I'm untied, you coward!" Neal's voice was full of venom he didn't normally feel but this man was pissing him off. Thomas made a mock expression of fear.

"Did I actually get a rise out of Mr. CONgeniality?" Thomas pressed him back to the floor, arm pushed against his adam's apple tightly as Neal tried to sit back up.

"You're nothing but a two-bit con. Don't think I'm afraid of your threats!" Thomas grinned as Neal's face turned pink then a darker shade of red before he let go and backed off. Neal caught his breath and scowled at the man, coughing and wheezing.

"Cow… ward." Neal coughed, his blue eyes narrowing. Thomas just laughed, turning his attention to one of the other agents talking on a cell.

"Ok. Yes sir. Bye." The agent turned and looked at the rest of them, including Neal.

"Gordon says the next target will be sent to us tomorrow." He saw nods of consent from all but Neal who lay half sitting, against the side of the van. The man's eyes narrowed a bit looking at the con but then he pushed his cell back to his ear, having dialed another number. He turned his head and ducked, keeping the call as private as he could.

Neal curled up against the wall and tried to get comfy despite being bound. They hadn't tied him as securely as usual, Neal feeling the cord loosen ever so slightly as he unhinged his fingers and managed to pull a hand free. He kept his arms behind him hoping nobody would notice and so far they hadn't. All the agents had their guns in their holsters, all treating him like he was something to be ignored. That could be useful.

He felt the van stop and everyone started to pile out except for Thomas who scooted over and started to reach for Neal.

"Come on! Gordon doesn't want us to make him wait." Thomas pulled at Neal's hair, yanking his head back but Neal was ready for the man. He twisted himself round, pinning the agent's arms behind him and managed get him flat on his back. With his free hand he had grabbed the gun and pushed it against the man's temple.

"I told you to wait till I was untied, you coward!" Neal's voice hissed dangerously as he cocked the gun back, Thomas' brown eyes widening with sudden fear. He was trying to move but Neal held him securely.

"Caffrey, let him go!" He turned to see Jared looking at him along with the other agents, all of them surprised at the sight of the usually benign con suddenly in the role of aggressor. He growled at them.

"This is between me and him!" Neal didn't know why but he felt somewhat free. There was a part of him that was enjoying this little exercise in role reversal. He wasn't usually violent but after the nearly month or more he'd been trapped with these men, this felt like a release of all his pent up fears and anger.

Neal felt his finger tightening on the trigger as he pushed the gun closer to the agent's temples.

"How does it feel to be on the other end of the stick, Thomas? Didn't think I'd fight back?" Neal felt his finger pull the trigger back a little further when he heard another voice.

"Caffrey! I think you've made your point. Let him go!" He didn't stop at first but then something clicked in his head and he saw the gun and what he was doing and felt sick. Neal pulled away, dropping the gun on the floor of the van as he scooted back and out of the vehicle. He didn't even check to see what Thomas did, finding a nearby bush and throwing up behind it.

"Thomas, I told you to leave him alone. We can't afford any delays!"

**()()()**

Neal was given a regular room in the new compound although it was still locked from the outside and contained no windows. The vents were too small for him to crawl through so that wasn't an option if he had thought of it. He had become resigned to his fate to save his friends. Neal found clean clothes in the small wardrobe along with some pajama pants. He lay out some clean clothes, went into the small bathroom and took his first real shower in a while. The water was hot and burned at his skin but it felt nice.

Fifteen minutes later he was out and dressed in the pajamas. He felt so much more alive suddenly. He found some safety razors and managed to shave, something he hadn't really been able to do. He slicked back his now clean hair and lay on the small twin bed in the room. He had found some stationary paper in a drawer of a small desk and began cutting it into squares. Neal folded a small piece of something till the final product was done and he decorated it with a pencil he found.

It was a small thing, looked like a man wearing a suit, the tie a bit crooked but it was all he could do to represent Peter. He sat it on the nightstand and stared at the little origami man, slipping into a more relaxed sleep.

"Wake up!" Someone nudged him, pushing at him till he woke up. Neal wondered who when he saw Thomas standing there. He was about to speak when the man held up a hand.

"Don't… I… I wanted to apologize. Here." He pushed a rolled up newspaper into the con's hand looking around cautiously before he left the room. Neal didn't know what just happened, curious at the man's behavior but also annoyed at him barging in like that. Neal was about to toss the paper aside when he noticed the date. He unrolled the item, pushing off the rubber band.

He noticed it was one section of the paper from about a month or so back. It was the Locals. He hadn't seen a newspaper in over a month so it was nice to finally find out what was going on. Gordon and the agents had kept him locked up and in the dark except for the heists. He noticed a small blurb in the paper about one of June's clubs having a small soiree. He smiled reading about the success of it. There was even a picture of some of the committee members, June among them. He gently cut at the paper, removing the article to keep for his own when he saw something through the gap.

Neal turned the page to the item in question and started to read something, lips moving in silent dictation, small drops of water hitting the paper as he read it.

"_**Peter Burke (1967 - 2010)**** :** Agent Peter Burke died while in the line of duty. He spent his life helping others while working in the FBI. He is survived by his wife Elizabeth Shannon Burke, his brother Walter, sister Jenna and parents, David and Helen Burke. A memorial service was held at Meadow Park Funeral Home."_

Neal reread the obituary till the paper was nearly soaked through around it.

Peter was dead? But… Gordon…

_"Just remember, I spared your friend or he would be dead now. Don't make me change my mind."_

Neal shuddered, his emotions getting away with him. At first he was in mourning, crying and trying to hold it all in. He felt remorse and suddenly understood why nobody had come for him. Peter was the only one who could ever find him and he was gone. Slowly it sunk through what had happened as he felt bitterness, realizing that Gordon had lied to him.

He could have left at any time during the heists, nothing holding him back but the idea he was helping his friends. It had all been a lie. Peter was dead and gone. Nothing kept him here. He had no reason to suffer if the person he had been protecting was gone.

Anger filled him, his memory thinking of a story he'd heard once. It had been about how they caught wild elephants as calves and trained them to be obedient. They would chain the elephant and keep it isolated till the elephant became so far gone with hopelessness they could tied it with nothing more than a small rope and the elephant, fully capable of breaking the rope wouldn't due to it's fear and anxiety. That's what Gordon had done to Neal. He had broken his spirit. He had killed his only hope.

Neal felt his eyes narrow as he thought about the time he'd lost and how he could have been back with Elizabeth comforting her. He wondered how she was coping without Peter there. Neal could only imagine her heartbreak, guilt threatening to overwhelm him.

Why did Thomas give him this? What was the purpose? He had to find out. Neal cursed silently, looking at the little origami figure he'd made and crushing it. It was a lie. It was all a lie!


	6. Chapter 6

**(Chapter 6)**

Peter stood in the lobby on the first floor of the FBI building. He was waiting for Agent Gordon, looking up when he saw Jones walk inside. He waved, the younger agent nodding.

"Hey Peter. Guess you're here to meet up with Gordon?" Jones sounded a bit disappointed, Peter noticing.

"Yeah. You sound a bit down for someone going with me. What's up?" Peter asked, his colleague looking uncertain.

"Not sure, but I've been put on another duty for the day. You'll be on your own with Gordon." Peter blinked.

"Hughes didn't tell me that. When did you get this new assignment?" Peter looked concerned, walking with Jones to the elevator.

"Just a few minutes ago. Do you think it could be false like Caffrey's text?" Jones pulled his phone out and showed it to Peter who shrugged helplessly.

"Check it out with Hughes, if it's legit. Stay. If not, call me. I'll give you our location to meet up with us." Peter saw Jones nod as the elevator doors closed and he turned to see Gordon striding into the lobby. He had to admire the man for appearing on the up and up. He was certain he had something to do with Neal's disappearance after the other day but until he had concrete proof he'd have to play along.

"Agent Burke, I see you're here early. Good. Shall we take off?" The man's tone was officious making Peter want to 'gag' as Mozzie might say. He chuckled at the thought seeing Gordon's reaction.

"Something funny, Burke?" Gordon looked a bit annoyed at him, Peter shaking his head with a smile.

"Not really... just a thought I had. So, where are we off to today?" Peter could see a hint of annoyance in the agent's eyes but it soon faded behind a mask. In a way the man reminded him of Neal how he changed his demeanor so quickly. He wondered what kind of a con the agent was playing.

"I thought we might talk to the guard who was injured to get some more information. They say he identified your consultant as the one who shot him. Not sure why Hughes allowed such a man to work as an FBI consultant." Gordon's voice was somewhat coy in an offhanded manner. Peter prickled at the comment feeling the agent's eyes on him. He turned and smiled confidently.

"I heard differently. 'Neal' tried to save the guard but someone 'else' dragged him away. It sounded like he was being coerced." Peter put some emphasis into his own words, seeing Gordon give him a curious glance. He grinned inwardly, following the agent to a waiting car. Peter paused.

"I can meet you there in my car." He saw Gordon shake his head.

"Faster this way. You can ride with me and my men." Peter had a bad feeling about this but he consented, getting into the back of the black sedan. Two more men were in the vehicle, one driving, and the other in the back already. Both had typical black FBI type suits and wore sunglasses. They turned back to nod silently at Peter without much expression. Peter nodded back feeling a chill.

"Thomas, drive us to the Asian Arts Museum." The man nodded and the car pulled out into traffic. Gordon turned to chat with Peter.

"Agent Burke, my agents: Thomas and Howell." They three nodded at each other, Gordon continuing after a moment.

"Agent Burke, I hope you were in no way insulted by my comment earlier. I was merely repeating what I heard. I'm still reading the reports on all the thefts and Mr. Caffrey's apparent kidnapping. I'm surprised that Hughes placed you back on the case when you're so 'close' to it." Gordon's voice dripped in hidden sarcasm but he ignored it.

"I'm the only person who can find him unless someone is manipulating the situation from higher up." He had thrown the ball back into Gordon's court hoping for a hint of something. The agent shrugged back.

"Who's to say? Perhaps the con is manipulating it himself. He knows our methods from working with you so closely." This time he was a bit more obvious about his tone of voice, Peter watching Gordon through the rear-view mirror. Peter felt the atmosphere grow a bit tenser but he did his best to ignore it.

"I think I know Caffrey well enough to say, someone is coercing him."

**()()()**

Neal was left to his own devices in the room he'd been assigned. The only person he saw was Jared in the early morning with something bought at a local fast food place. It was some kind of breakfast burrito or such with egg and sausage along with a small coffee and hash brown. At least it was food. He ate the burrito, leaving the greasy hash brown (_which reminded him of a coaster_) in the bag. He sipped at the coffee adding some of the creamer and sugar that had been included. He grabbed a cup from the dispenser in the bathroom and had some water when he was done.

He starting exploring the room he was in alleviate his boredom. The room was fairly small, an old (_pre-90s_) TV sitting in the corner with a hint of dust on it. It didn't have a plug and apparently was just there for decoration. He sighed, finding an old transistor radio in a drawer and turning it on. It was staticy at first till he found an oldies channel.

"_I'll get by_  
_As long as I_  
_Have you_

_Though there be rain_  
_And darkness too_  
_I'll not complain_  
_I'll see it through_

_Poverty_  
_May come to me_  
_It's true_

_Say, what care I_  
_Dear, I'll get by_  
_As long as I_  
_Have you…"_

Neal sat the radio on the nightstand, lying back on the bed, arms behind his head. He was thinking about things mostly how he was going to get out of here now that he knew Peter was dead. He had to visit his friend's grave, give Elizabeth his condolences if she'd take them… he wondered if things would be the same with June and Mozzie. It wasn't like he had been gone all that long but he had been absent. Things change.

He sighed, rolling over and closing his eyes. The radio continued to play in the background.

"_That was Harry James with Dick Haymes singing 'I'll get by' on your station for all the best oldies, WKGD 1240 AM. "_

Neal fell into a light sleep, the music creating a vague landscape in the back of his mind as he lay there.

"_... So on we go  
His welfare is of my concern  
No burden is he to bear  
We'll get there  
For I know  
He would not encumber me..."_

His face contorted slightly as he slept, his dreams matching his thoughts and the music at times.

Neal found himself standing outside the Burke's residence. It seemed strangely empty. He walked up the few steps and knocked on the door. At first nobody answered then he heard voices behind the door and thought he saw a face peek out of the curtain briefly. Finally he heard the latch and someone opened up the door, the chain in place.

"Yes, may I help you?" He saw a man standing there but it wasn't Peter. The man looked familiar but he wasn't sure why. Another voice popped up behind him whispering.

"_Who is it?"_ He saw a woman with auburn hair standing there and peering over the man's shoulders.

"(_I don't know yet._) I'm sorry, what was your name?" The man was still looking at him and he wondered if he had the wrong house.

"Caffrey. Neal Caffrey. I was a colleague of Peter's. I came to speak with Elizabeth." The man looked at him curiously, turning around and whispering to the woman.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Caffrey was it? Elizabeth isn't available to chat at the moment. I'll let her know you came by." The man seemed cautious, the woman behind him peering to see who he was but looking suspiciously at him. Neal nodded with a false smile.

"Not a problem. Tell her... never mind. It's ok." He turned feeling strangely out of place and left, walking down the sidewalk. He could feel their eyes looking at him through the curtain as he turned the corner and leaned against the cement wall. Why couldn't he just barge in and tell her he was sorry? Beg her forgiveness for Peter's death? He sighed in his sleep, brow furrowing, lips slipping into a frown. He opened his eyes and heard the radio still playing softly.

"_That was_ '_He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother_.'" Neal rubbed at his eyes and looked around the room. Nothing had changed. He was still a prisoner. Neal turned the radio off and curled back up one the bed. He was looking down at the wastebasket by the bed. There were ketchup packets in it along with some extra creamers in the bag he had received earlier. His eyes kept looking at the packets and then at the bathroom.

**()()()**

"Damn that Burke! He acts so smug but I get the feeling he's on to us. Thomas follow him tomorrow. Jared, go check on our charge. Make sure he's ready for tonight's heist." Gordon looked pissed, Jared nodding at him as he left.

Jared knocked on the door before he entered the room. It was dark, the lamp from the nightstand flipped over and laying bent on the floor, flickering softly. He had his gun ready, looking around the room for Neal as he closed the door behind him. He didn't have to look far, hearing water dripping in the bathroom as he entered and found the young man in his pajamas, partially submerged in the tub, something red dripping down his wrists. The agent's eyes widened as he leaned over to check the con and felt himself pulled forward, head connecting with the tile. He slumped to the floor stunned, Neal standing up and rinsing the ketchup and creamer off his wrists.

"Some EMT you are." Neal bound the agent, felt around and took the gun, keys and cell and exchanged clothes with the man. He pushed on the sunglasses and exited the room.

**()()()**

"Where is Jared? Thomas go check on him and see what's taking so long." Gordon's tone was less than friendly, Thomas hurrying off but secretly cursing at the man. Why he put so much trust in Caffrey's skills he didn't know. He made his way to the room and found the door ajar. He quietly pulled out his gun and pushed the door open finding the room dimly lit by the flickering of a broken lamp. He heard a faint groan in the bathroom and made his way over and found Jared bound and gag, a large bump on his head. Thomas cursed, untying the agent and rousing him as best he could.

"Caffrey, where is he?" Thomas sounded anxious, Jared still kind of stunned, slumped on the floor.

"Caffrey? He... blood... fake." Jared didn't make much sense till Thomas looked and saw the razor from the shaver on the counter and some empty creamer and ketchup packets. He pulled out his cell and phoned Gordon.

"Caffrey's free! Yeah, Jared was knocked out and bound. Be right there." Thomas stood, replacing the gun in his holster when he felt a hand over his mouth and cold metal pressed against his temple.

"Don't make a sound!" Neal found the man's cuffs and bound him to a chair, removing his gun and cell.

"So, why the humanitarian act with the newspaper, Thomas?" He pushed the gun against the man's chin and grinned. Thomas gulped, brown eyes widening.

"I... don't have to tell you anything!" He started to yell when Neal slugged him, the agent slumping. He stuffed a clean wash cloth into his mouth.

"Doesn't matter why. Thanks."

**()()()**

Peter took a ride back with Jones from the museum, Gordon apparently having an appointment. Jones' reassignment had been legit but he had been able to stop by after wards to discuss the case with Peter on the way back to the office.

"So let me get this straight, you think Gordon is behind this scheme with Caffrey and the thefts?" Jones looked bewildered.

"I saw him just before I was kidnapped in the morgue. That's when I saw Neal and discovered he wasn't dead. I just don't understand why he's having Neal take all these items. Doesn't make sense." Peter cursed, leaning back in the seat.

"But you have nothing but your word to say you saw him, boss. How are you going to prove it?" Jones had a way of getting to gist of things, Peter nodding.

"No clue yet but I have to figure this out before something bad happens to Neal. They won't keep him once he's fulfilled his purpose."

**()()()**

Neal looked down at his leg, no anklet in sight. Gordon had removed it after it had been turned off. He felt naked without it but he was free. He could technically go anywhere he wanted and nobody would find him. Not even Peter. He sighed at the thought, watching the lights of the city zoom past as he looked out the cab window. He felt the vehicle slow down and sat up, paying the cabbie as he exited the vehicle. He had a strange moment of _deja vu _as he stood there on the corner and stared across the street. He saw lights on through the curtains of the Burke's house but the Taurus was missing from its usual parking spot. El must be out. He found a bench and sat down, watching the house with a pang of regret as he thought about the last time he spoke with Peter. He had been angry, trying not to care as he pushed his friend to leave him behind.

He looked up as he saw a familiar vehicle pull up and parallel park along the curb. Neal stood, hiding behind a lamp post and peering across. He felt like a stalker but he needed to see El. Maybe seeing her would give him the courage to talk to her. He needed to know about Peter. He was surprised when a man stepped out of the vehicle and walked around towards the house. The mannerisms were familiar, the clothes... even though it was dark it looked like... no it couldn't be!

"Peter?" Neal felt a strange pang of something as he saw the figure walk up the few steps towards the door. They reached into their pocket for something and paused, turning around.

**()()()**

Peter was exhausted but more than that he was soul weary. He still had no clue how Gordon was involved or where they had Neal. He was only sure of one thing, Gordon had the answers if he could just prove it. He would have to find some great evidence to convince his boss that his oldest friend was a crook and a cheat, if not a potential murderer and kidnapper. He sighed, reaching into his pocket for his key but hearing it fall to the stoop. He turned to look where it had fallen and froze.

He could just make out a tall, lanky looking man standing across the street and looking his way. The figure was familiar but the clothes were not. Peter forgot about the key for a moment, moving down the steps as he stared at the figure and started walking across the sidewalk. The figure didn't move. Peter just stared at them getting a hint of features in the dim light of the street lamp. He started to cross the street when headlights flashed and he paused, the light catching the figure's face.

"Neal?" He whispered. Peter could have sworn...

"Neal?" Peter called out, the figure taking a few steps back and running for it. Peter made his way across the street, running after the figure.

"Neal!"

**()()()**

He froze when he saw the figure approach him, watching them pause as a car drove past. Headlights illuminated their features and he could see who it was. Peter! Neal was frozen with fear if not confusion. He remembered the obituary in the paper. This couldn't be Peter. Peter was dead.

"Neal?" He heard the person say, their tone like Peter's. It couldn't be him. How? It had to be a trick so he stepped back as they started towards him, turned and ran. He could hear them chasing him down the pavement.

"Neal!" Their voice rang out, sounding so much like Peter but it had to be a trick. Gordon must have found him. He kept running till he saw an alley and ducked inside. The figure ran past without seeing him, stopping to look around. Neal could see them but they couldn't see him. They looked so much like Peter it was remarkable. Maybe he was dreaming again.

"Neal! Dammit!" He heard them curse and turn and start to walk back. Neal waited a moment before he came out of his hiding place. He stepped out of the alley, someone grasping his arm tightly. He yanked himself away, hearing a loud gasp as he stood, back against the alley wall, gun suddenly in hand.

**()()()**

Peter froze, the gun pointed right at him. He was looking right at Neal but he was different. Something had changed the young man. Peter felt a cold chill run down his spine as he saw the frightened confused look in Neal's eyes, gun steady in his hands. After a moment he remembered himself and spoke with a shaky voice.

"Neal, it's me. Peter. Please give me the gun." He slowly held out his hands, one up and one out, palm face up. He watched those blue eyes studying him curiously, cautiously.

"You can't be him. Peter's dead!" Neal's voice was full of fear, his expression that of someone trying to figure something out. Peter shook his head.

"No, I'm here. I've been looking for you, Neal. You're safe now." He smiled at the young man as sincerely as he could, seeing a light start to come on behind the young man's eyes.

"You looked for me? Why couldn't you find me? You always found me before." His voice sounded bitter, Neal's eyes turning shiny with tears but he still had the gun pointed at him. Peter nodded, his manner contrite.

"They took me off the case and I did what I could with what I had. I'm sorry, Neal. Please forgive me." Peter sniffled a bit, moving his hand to wipe at his eyes. He felt a hand on his arm all of a sudden, Neal holding the gun out to him handle first.

"Take it. Please." Neal's voice sounded tired, exhausted. Peter complied, pushing the gun into his pocket quickly. Neal was looking at him with a strange expression, his face paler than he remembered as they stood beneath the street lamps.

"Let's go home. Ok?" He took the young man's arm and they started to walk back towards the house.

**()()()**

Elizabeth thought she heard a car park outside. She started to come downstairs, looking at the clock as she did so. It was nearly 8 pm. Peter had said he might be late. She heard the sound of something tinkling as it fell to the pavement and then footsteps moving away from the door. She peered through the peephole and saw Peter walking down the stairs. She started to open the door but he was already starting to cross the street. He seemed to be looking at a figure across the road. El looked down to see her husband's keys on the porch, crouching to pick them up when she saw the figure across the road illuminated. It was Neal.

"Neal?" She wanted to call out but Peter had already started chasing after the figure as the person took off. She considered following but it was dark and they had taken off so quickly she wasn't sure it would be safe to try and catch up. Instead, El took the keys inside with her and locked the door, sitting down at the couch and petting Satchmo as he padded over to her.

"Hey Satch. I think your father found Neal."

**()()()**

Elizabeth closed the door quietly, turning around as Peter stepped back. They tiptoed from the guest room and walked over to their own, his arm around her shoulder. Once they had closed their door, she sighed in relief and plopped down on the bed.

"He's really here. I can't believe it. How did you find him, Peter?" She looked happier than he'd seen her for the past month. They'd both been so worried about how Neal was and if he was being treated well but seeing him so skinny and tired looking had been a shock. It was just a relief to know he was alive.

"Neal found us. Somehow he thought I was dead. He had a gun pointed at me. Thought I wasn't me but I guess I convinced him otherwise." He was sniffling slightly, wiping at his eyes and she smiled, leaning over to kiss him.

"Of course he knew it was you if you did that. He knows you too well despite everything that's happened." She curled up next to him, his arm around her.

"I swear, Gordon will pay for whatever he did to him. Considering all the trouble they went to kidnap him then they treat him like some kind of nobody and starve him."

Peter's voice was a growl, El clucking her tongue to shush him.

"Calm down, Peter. He's with us now."


	7. Chapter 7

**(Chapter 7)**

Neal's face twitched in his sleep, voices whispering to him as he lay there.

_"It's a lie. You'll never be safe."_

The voice was dark and cold, chuckling at him in the darkness. Neal's lips quivered ever so slightly, his body shifting uncomfortably.

_"They'll never take you back. You're corrupted."_

Neal's brow furrowed in his sleep, a soft murmuring from his lips.

"No... you lie! I belong here." He was talking in his sleep, the voice chuckling at him in the darkness. His eyes moved beneath closed lids, face covered in a thin sheet of sweat.

_"You don't have anywhere to go. All you can do is run and hide."_

Neal continued to struggle in his sleep, the voice taunting him. He was trying his best to ignore it when someone touched his forehead. His hand flew up and grasped their wrist hard, a stifled scream from the person he grabbed. Neal's eyes opened, still bleary with sleep. The person struggled against his hold but he held on tightly, still partially in the dream.

_"No one trusts you anymore..."_

Neal shook his head, still holding the wrist in his hand securely. His eyes stared blankly ahead.

"Shut up!" He jumped out of the bed and pushed the figure against the wall, his eyes not seeing them as he shook his head again.

**()()()**

Elizabeth kissed Peter good-bye as he left. He had taken the day off to go get some things from June's for Neal. He hadn't told anyone Neal was back yet for safety's sake. Elizabeth understood and promised to keep Neal's return quiet. She stayed home, keeping an eye on Neal and checking up on him off and on. He was still asleep when she went in around noon. She noticed the sweat on his brow, his face pale, cheeks flushed and reached to feel his forehead. Suddenly his hand grasped hers and she stifled a scream as he held her wrist tightly. He was delirious, pushing her up against the wall, his blue eyes staring through her.

She was scared but knew he must be dreaming still, trying to calm herself and stop struggling.

"Neal, wake up. You're having a nightmare." She kept her voice calm but firm. He shook his head, his eyes still not seeing her. Elizabeth kept her cool, reaching with her other hand to touch his cheek.

"Neal... you're safe. Wake up, Neal. Please." She saw his blue eyes watering, tears flowing down them till they seemed to focus on her and he blinked. Neal looked around himself as if confused, looking down to see her wrist in his. He let go as if he had been burned and backed away. El rubbed her wrist before reaching out to touch his arm. He backed further away.

"Don't..." He said, turning as if trying to decide what to do. He looked skittish like he might run, El keeping herself by the door open but not blocking it. Finally she sat on the bed and motioned for him to sit. Neal continued to stare at the door as if contemplating running but finally he felt himself move closer to El and sat down some feet from her. He sat stiffly, only looking at her with side glances but never directly. Her wrist still hurt but she wasn't going to complain, rubbing it tenderly till he was suddenly standing beside her.

"Neal?" She looked up at him, trying not to scare him but he gently grasped her wrist and looked at the reddening skin. His face twitched, a tortured look mixed with guilt as he glanced back at her.

"I'm... sorry." His body started to shudder, his eyes dripping tears as he collapsed to his knees. El shushed him gently, reaching to hug him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. He leaned against her leg and sobbed softly. She looked up as someone peered inside. It was Peter.

He started to say something but she held up a hand and he paused.

"Neal..." She spoke softly, the young man rousing as he looked up at her. She caressed his hair gently, helping him sit beside her.

"Feeling better?" She continued to caress his hair as he leaned against her like a child. Peter stood silently in the doorway watching as she calmed Neal down. He nodded without looking at her, eyes partially closed.

"Peter brought you some things from June's. Right, Peter?" She looked up at him and smiled, Peter nodding as Neal looked up at him. The young man looked skittish, blue eyes watching Peter cautiously.

"June sends her love." Peter walked into the room slowly, deliberately as he set the bag by the door and took a seat in a small chair by the bed. Neal continued to watch him, body tense. El kept talking to him, hugging him close to keep him calm. He started to slump against her, eyes closing. El eased the young man back onto the bed, Peter helping her to lay him back under the covers. Neal murmured in his sleep, eyes partially open.

"I'm sorry." He was looking at El but she just shushed him.

"Sleep, Neal. It's ok." She caressed his hair gently till he fell back to sleep, motioning quietly for Peter to follow her. They left the room, leaving the door partially open. Peter hugged her close, El wincing slightly when he accidentally hit her wrist. He glanced down at the bruising skin.

"What happened, El?" He was looking at her wrist with concern but she shook her head, her expression calm.

"Nothing. I was checking on Neal and reached to check his forehead for a fever when he grabbed my wrist. He didn't know what he was doing." She shrugged it off but Peter caught her in a hug and held her. His brown eyes looked down at her with concern as he continued to hug her close.

"He didn't mean to do it, Peter. He was scared." She pushed her face into his shoulder and nestled, both of them walking towards their room. Peter continued to hold her, kissing her on the forehead.

"He almost shot me... almost hurt you. What did they do to him that caused this? Neal was never like this before. I..." He continued to hold his wife in his arms as his voice trailed off. He looked frustrated but worried. If Neal kept up like this, they'd have to send him back to prison. Elizabeth knew that better than anyone that Peter didn't want that for the young man.

"It will be ok, Peter. It's only one day. He'll get better." She sounded hopeful.

**()()()**

Neal cried silently to himself once El and Peter had left. He was not in control of himself anymore. It scared him to think he could have hurt Elizabeth but he almost did. He had almost shot Peter. What was wrong with him? He tried to fight down the fear that coursed through him and calm himself down but it was hard to do. He had been in a terrible place for nearly two months without relief and now... now he was still afraid. Trapped in a prison of his own making. What bothered him most was his fear of Peter. He knew Peter was his friend but something made him breakdown when in the agent's presence. Gordon had done this!

He cursed silently, wishing he could wring the man's neck. Neal lay there in the guest room feeling less than himself, his eyes looking at the bag Peter had dropped by the partially open door. He slowly pulled himself from bed and padded over to the bag, sitting on the floor beside it. He pulled out a bag full of his toiletries, found his favorite pajamas and some other sleep pants along with another case hanging on the door with some of his suits. His hat sat up on the dresser. He smiled ever so slightly, pulling out a pair of jeans and black tee as he stood and walked out of the room and into the bathroom at the end of the hall. He paused briefly as he heard Peter and El speaking.

_"What happened, El?"_ Peter's voice sounded concerned, Neal wondering what it was he was asking about.

_"Nothing. I was checking on Neal and reached to check his forehead for a fever when he grabbed my wrist. He didn't know what he was doing."_ Elizabeth's voice calm with only a hint of uncertainty in it.

_"He didn't mean to do it, Peter. He was scared."_ She was defending him even after what he did. Neal winced silently to himself, his guilty feelings coming back.

_"He almost shot me... almost hurt you. What did they do to him that caused this? Neal was never like this before. I..._" Peter sounded concerned but it made Neal feel guiltier at causing them so much pain. He didn't want to hurt anyone, especially Peter and El.

Neal quietly entered the bathroom and closed the door. He stripped out of the clothes he'd borrowed from Jared and got into the shower. He let the water slowly ease him into a semblance of calm. He was safe. Neal repeated that to himself in his mind, trying to make himself believe it. Soon though, he found himself curled up on the shower floor shaking. He felt helpless, his thoughts scattering as he tried to control his fear. After a moment he stood back up and turned the water off. He dried off and pulled on his clothes. Neal thought about it again. These were his clothes. They weren't the ones that June had given him but things he had bought with the little bit of money he got consulting. The thought made him calm down a bit but the idea of June helped. He could hear her voice in his head worrying over him as she fixed is lapels or dusted off a bit of lint from his jacket.

He padded quietly out of the bathroom, taking his clothes, the towel wrapped around his shoulders as he dried his hair. He no longer heard the soft voices of Peter or El but instead heard their movements downstairs, the sound of a game on the TV. It felt familiar but his mind was still fighting the panic that overwhelmed him. He closed the door to the guest room and went back to the bag, pulling it over to the bed as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. He pulled out a pair of black socks and put them on, then pushed his feet into a pair of dark brown loafers before he stood again. He pulled out a dark blue corduroy button up shirt and put that on over the tee. Neal sighed, putting Jared's clothes into the small waste basket before he stood and looked over at the door. He was safe, he thought. Nobody's out there but friends. This isn't a dream._ I'm really here and I'm safe_. He heard the buzz of a phone and looked around till he saw it was coming from the waste basket. He dug around in the pockets till he found the small black cell phone.

He answered the cell even though it wasn't his and heard silence. Soon he realized he could hear the slight breath of someone on the other end. He listened closer, not making a sound till a voice replied.

"_So the pet con is back with its master. How sweet. Don't think you're going to be free of me so easily, Caffrey._" Neal listened to the voice, his pulse racing as he threw the phone on floor and watched it break apart. His breath came fast, footsteps heard outside and a knock on the door.

"Neal? Neal, are you ok?" It was Peter's voice but Neal didn't react, looking down at the phone in fear as he stared down at the device. The door knob started to turn quietly.

"Neal, it's Peter. I'm coming in." The door opened.

**()()()**

Peter and El heard Neal walk past their door and go into the bathroom. He took a long shower but they didn't mind if it meant he was feeling better. El went downstairs to put ice on her bruised wrist, Peter joining her as he sat down to watch the game in the living room. They tried to act as normal as possible and keep out of Neal's way so he could come to them. Peter looked up when he heard the loud sound of something falling on the wooden floor boards upstairs. He dashed up the stairs and knocked on the guest room door. Neal didn't answer.

"Neal?" Peter peered inside the room as he slowly opened up the door and looked around. Neal stood by the bed, his gaze looking down at the floor where a cell phone lay in pieces. The young man looked terrified of something.

"Neal? Tell me what's wrong." Peter saw the young man look up at him a moment, blue eyes flickering with fear then back at the phone.

"I have to go." Neal zipped the bag up on the bed and started to push past Peter but the agent held him.

"Hey, hold on, Neal. Tell me what's wrong." Peter had a good hold on the young man but Neal twisted round and pushed him aside hard, Peter falling to the floor. Neal paused, looking at his friend guiltily, his manner uncertain as he looked between the stairs and Peter. Peter sat up, pulling himself back to his feet.

"Neal, tell me what's going on! Let me help you." Peter kept his voice calm but firm. Neal continued to stand there, his manner uncertain. Elizabeth called up, her voice ringing clearly.

"There are sandwiches if you're hungry!" Neal's manner seemed to change as he heard Elizabeth speak, the bag dropping from his shoulder to the floor. Peter walked over slowly, putting an arm around the younger man.

"Neal, come on." Peter left the bag on the floor, leading the young man to the stairs. They walked down slowly, El looking at them curiously when they came to sit at the table. Neal looked dazed, Peter worried but neither said a word as she set sandwiches out on the table. She just went along with it, Peter keeping his eyes on Neal who continued to look a bit out of it.

"I made your favorite, Neal: Chicken Salad." She put the tray in front of him, Neal barely nodding as he took a sandwich and placed it on his own plate. Peter took a deviled ham sandwich from the tray, his eyes still watching the younger man. Neal just stared at the sandwich a moment before he took a bite. He chewed slowly, his face relaxing as he finished, taking another bite. When he was done, he took a sip of the lemonade in the glass beside him. Peter started to relax a bit, eating his food as he stopped watching Neal so closely.

"How was June, Peter?" Elizabeth said suddenly as she passed another sandwich to Neal. He looked at it curiously before nodding at her and taking a bite of it. Peter finished eating a bit of his own sandwich, took a sip of lemonade and smiled.

"Well. She asked about Neal but I told her we had to keep it quiet even from Mozzie till the time was right." He took another bite of sandwich as El nodded back at him.

"It's too late."

They both turned to look at Neal who had finally spoken, his blue eyes staring down at his sandwich as he took another bite. Peter looked at his partner curiously as did El.

"The cell. Gordon knows." Neal's voice was barely audible but they heard. Peter stood up, walking over to Neal and placing a protective hand on his shoulder. El looked confused.

"Gordon? Neal, that's who called on the phone? Dammit!" Peter felt the young man twitch under his hand, shoulders stiffening in response. El looked at both of them clearing her throat.

"Someone tell me what's going on."

**(Earlier…)**

Gordon smiled, hearing the sound of the phone hitting the floor before hanging up his cell. He had found Caffrey alive and well. From the GPS on the phone he found out that he was with Agent Burke at his home. Maybe he should pay a visit to the Burkes and see how hospitable Mrs. Burke was.

**()()()**

Peter called Jones while packing up his stuff and letting El in on what happened. She paled but packed a bag too, helping Neal as she found his bag in the hallway. The young man remained quieter than normal, petting Satchmo in the guest room as Peter and El finished packing.

"Right, just meet me at that place. Don't tell anyone. I'll call Hughes myself." Peter nodded into the phone and hung up. He picked up his bag and helped El with hers.

"We need to leave before Gordon comes. He has a head start if that phone has GPS."


	8. Chapter 8

**(Chapter 8)**

Neal slept in the front seat of he car while Elizabeth sat in the back with Satchmo. Peter drove quickly, getting out of the city as soon as possible. They hit the outskirts of town after about thirty minutes to an hour, stopping briefly at a convenience store to get some food and snacks for the trip along with a small cooler and some ice. Once back on the road, it took another hour before Peter turned the car onto a small dirt road and pulled up to a rustic looking cabin framed by several huge trees and a lake in the background. Satchmo barked in excitement, waking up both Elizabeth and Neal, the latter a bit more sluggish.

"We're here." Peter nudged his partner who nodded sleepily, unhooking his seat-belt and opening up the door. They started to unload the vehicle, Peter walking up ahead of the them with a few bags, unlocking the door to the cabin. Elizabeth walked up with her case and some grocery bags, Neal taking Satchmo's lead and his own bag as they entered the cabin.

"Still looks the way I remember it." Elizabeth smiled, placing their personal bag by the door but taking the food from the convenience store and cooler into a small kitchen in the far corner.

Neal took a look around the cabin, taking it all in as he tried to feel a little less panicky. It was a fairly large room, a den with wooden rafters overhead, tapestries with Indian designs on them hanging on the walls, some framed personal photos as well as framed prints of hunting or fishing scenes. The hearth had a roughly hewn looking mantle with various knickknacks on it. Peter was already poking around the fire place as Neal continued to inspect the cabin. He felt a nudge as Elizabeth moved up and pointed down to a small hallway.

"Let me show you your room, ok?" She smiled at him, Neal nodding as he helped her with the bags and they headed down the small hallway where two doors sat at opposite ends of the hallway. She pushed open the one on the left.

"This room is yours, Neal. Let me know if you need anything. I'll find some linens." She moved away as he entered and crossed to the other room, opening it up and dropping the other bags there. Satchmo followed Neal into his room sniffing around a bit before leaving and following Elizabeth. Neal sighed softly, trying to fight his continued fears and started to set out what little items he had. He noticed his room had it's own bathroom, a small closet with a narrow shower, sink and toilet. He heard a sound by the door and started slightly, seeing Peter staring in at him.

"Hey, it's just me. Want to help me get some firewood for the hearth?" Peter was matter of fact, smiling. Neal nodded, moving over to the door and following his partner as Peter called out through the other bedroom.

"El, we're going to get some wood. Be right back!"

**()()()**

By evening, they had a nice fire going and everyone had changed into something more comfortable. It had worked out as a front had blown in, the rain pattering on the roof, wind howling as it rattled the windows. Neal curled up on a large roomy recliner while Peter and El were on the sofa. Peter had already called Hughes about what was going on but Jones was still absent probably because of the weather. They were far enough away from things, nobody could find them without personal knowledge of the place. It wasn't the kind of location that was on many maps, being a personal residence. Peter inherited the cabin from his grandfather some years ago but had little time to actually visit with his job. Neal had been fascinated to discover the place had been built by Peter's grandfather. It was a fairly modern home despite the rustic look and feel. It had electricity and had been outfitted for comfort in case of bad weather.

Neal stared into the fire, quiet music playing in the background from a small radio Elizabeth had brought along. The flames drew his mind into a sort of trance-like state, his blue eyes flickering green in the orange glow.

Images flashed through the young man's mind, his blank expression as his pupils grew smaller in response to his reaction. He was lost in thought, hearing things in his head. Voices spoke to him in quiet tones, his face twitching ever so slightly.

"_You're not safe. We will find you_."

The voices whispered darkly to him, Neal staring blankly at the fire.

"_You can't run from your past_."

Neal continued to stare into the fire without blinking, a shadowy form blocking his view.

"_Hey... Neal. Neal wake up._" Someone was talking to him but all he saw was the shadow in the flames of the fire, a different voice speaking to him in a strange distorted tone. Neal twitched ever so slightly, his hands turning to fists as he lay back in the recliner.

"_Neal?_" The shadow moved towards him, reaching to touch his shoulder, the young man feeling that fear and panic wash over him till his eyes focused and he could see Peter's face.

"Hey, you ok?" Peter's voice sounded concerned. Neal snapping out of his daze and glancing up at his friend with a slow nod.

"Yeah. Guess I'm a little more tired than I thought." He glanced around his friend at the fire then back up at Peter, the agent looking at him curiously. Elizabeth gave a little yawn from the sofa, standing up and moving over to Peter's side.

"We should get a good night's sleep. Jones will hopefully be here by morning. This storm sounds like it's going to howl for a bit." Peter's voice sounded a bit sleepy, El pulling him away but not before giving Neal a small hug.

"Sleep well, Neal." She smiled at him as he continued to sit on the recliner.

"Thanks. I'll put the fire out in a few minutes. I'm going to sit here a while longer." He saw them both nod and walk down the hallway and disappear, the sound of a door opening and closing. Neal leaned back in the recliner and closed his eyes, listening to the crackling of the fire as well as the storm blowing outside. After a bit he fell asleep, face relaxing as he slept a dreamless sleep.

**()()()**

Neal woke feeling groggy, a lingering scent of something sweet in the air. He moved to sit up but found he was already sitting stiffly in a chair, arms pulled back tightly and bound. He tried to make a sound but there was something stuffed in his mouth, tape over his lips. He thought maybe he was dreaming till he saw three more figures bound but unconscious laying on the floor of the cabin. Neal made muffled noises, trying to move but someone held the chair in place. He turned to see a man dressed in black with a white mask on. Neal's eyes widened in fear as he realized what was going on. He struggled but saw the man holding the chair pull their fist back and slug him hard across the chin. Neal reeled, the masked figure whispering to him.

"Pay back!" He recognized that voice as Thomas' once his senses came back. Thomas pinched the young man's nostrils closed, Neal struggling to breath when someone coughed. Another man in a mask walked over with a cool air of confidence.

"Leave him be, Thomas. We need him for the heist and his friends here should be enough to convince him that he should do this if not for himself for their welfare." Gordon's voice was muffled beneath the mask, causing a chill of fear to slip up and down his spine. Thomas let go, Gordon pulling the tape and rags from his mouth. Neal gasped for air before answering.

"Let them go!" Neal pulled against his bonds looking down at the unconscious forms of Peter, El and Agent Jones. Now he knew why Jones hadn't shown up. He was wondering about Hughes now although Gordon would probably play that card through without letting Hughes in on anything. Neal continued to struggle, Thomas holding the chair in place. Gordon clucked his tongue.

"Such spirit. You still owe me a heist or did you forget?" Gordon crouched before the young man and removed his mask.

"You don't want your friend's to suffer do you Caffrey?" He made a motion to one of the masked men and they walked over and lifted Peter from the floor, clearing off the coffee table, placing him on top. The man pulled out a pistol and held it to the unconscious agent's chest, cocking the gun.

"Jared isn't very happy about what you did and he wants payback like Thomas. He'll shoot your friend in the heart unless you finish what we started. What do you say, Caffrey?" Gordon was smiling coldly, staring with those hazel eyes, their color almost amber in the firelight. Neal looked between the agent and his friends and nodded.

"But I want your guarantee you won't harm any of them." Neal stared at the man despite his fear, blue eyes glaring. He was terrified but he was more afraid of losing Peter, El and Jones. Gordon blinked at the young man, chuckling.

"Such naivety. You'll do what you're told and hope you live after wards!" Gordon smacked him across the face, the gold ring on his finger cutting his cheek. Neal glared up at the man, Gordon smirking back.

Gordon made a motion, Jared moving away from Peter and towards Neal, pulling something out of his jacket pocket. It was a syringe. Jared tapped the needle as Thomas pulled Neal's head back and bared his neck. Neal struggled but the needle stung as it pushed through and he felt that familiar warmth as the drug went into this system. It only took a moment for it to take effect his head lolling backwards against the chair and then forward, his chin resting on his chest as he lost control, his body going limp. Gordon grasped his chin in his hand, raising his head till they were eye to eye.

"When you wake up, be prepared for the heist, Caffrey. Think about your friends here and choose wisely." Neal felt his eyes grow heavy and everything went black.

**()()()**

Peter left with El to their room but he left reluctantly, wanting to be sure that Neal was ok. He had seen the way he was staring into the fire as if in a trance. Something was up still he didn't want to crowd Neal so they said their good nights and left him alone in the den. El wrapped her arm around his waist and they walked back to their room, closing the door. El started to change into her pajamas, Peter looking back at the door as he slowly undressed, his mind on Neal's well-being. He felt someone helping him remove his shirt, turning to see El smiling.

"Honey, he'll be ok. Jones will come tomorrow and Hughes will have some men check on what you told him." She dropped his shirt next to her own small pile of clothes, Peter finishing changing into his own Pajamas as they climbed into bed. It was a cool night with the storm blowing outside and the sound of rain hitting the cabin like pebbles. It took a while but finally Peter found himself dropping into a light sleep, his arms wrapped around his wife as she curled up beside him.

He wasn't sure what time it was when he heard the noise. It was soft at first and then he heard footsteps, quiet footsteps creaking the floor boards as he opened up his eyes and saw a man with a white mask in black clothes looking down at him. It was too quick as they pushed a cloth over his nose and mouth another one doing the same to El who was still sleeping. She didn't rouse, and Peter had been taken off guard and soon passed into a light unconsciousness as they pulled both him and El from the bed, binding and gagging them with duct tape. He couldn't move but he was aware of what was going on, eyes partially open. He felt himself dragged along the floor into the den where he saw Neal bound to a chair. They dumped him and El on the floor and a third figure was dragged in: Jones. Peter now understood why Jones had taken so long to show up. He cursed inwardly unable to respond to anything under the drug's influence.

"So what now?" He heard a man speaking, a familiar voice like one he'd heard recently but with the masks he couldn't tell who spoke. Another man stood behind Neal, pulling the young man's head back by the hair harshly. Neal slumped without response.

"It won't be long. Once he's waken up, we can start the heist in earnest. He'll do it to save his friends or at least alleviate his guilt for thinking he might save them." The man laughed, the voice definitely familiar. It was Alistair Gordon's. He was certain of it but they all wore masks and he could only guess who else was there. Peter wished he could call for help or move but they were helpless.

"Is he awake?" Someone poked Peter in the ribs but he didn't respond, eyes staring blankly ahead to fool them. The man shook his head.

"Fool! He's out cold. Besides, we can wake him up for the fun part later. He's the one that Neal will have the most affection for. The man is his mentor. They have a certain bond and I know that bond will be what will make him do the heist. Then... bang! Unfortunate hunting accident in the woods. Such a shame..."

Peter heard a muffled groan, eyes turning to see when he knew nobody was looking. He could see Neal rousing, brow furrowing as he started to wake up. He watched the masked men taunt him, one slugging the young man in the face before Gordon confronted him with the heist, using Peter and the rest as the bargaining chip.

Neal looked tortured at the thought of his friends getting hurt but did he know the man was lying about letting them go? He didn't have time to think hard about that as he was dragged to the coffee table and stretched over it on his back. He saw as well as felt a gun pressed against his chest as he lay there helpless but totally aware of everything. He heard Neal protest then the slap from Gordon, a small cut where the metal of the FBI ring had cut the young man's cheek. Peter felt rage filling him but he was unable to do anything in his current state, watching and waiting, seeing his friend drugged again and then carried away.


	9. Chapter 9

**(Chapter 9)**

Neal woke up in the back of a van. Someone nudged him, his arms cuffed behind him. He opened his eyes to find Thomas glaring at him.

"Wake up, con!" The agent's voice was angry, the man holding a gun on him. Neal blinked trying to wake up as something was thrust at him.

"Turn around!" Thomas turned him around, holding him tightly around the neck, gun at his temple as he unlocked the cuffs, then turned him back.

"Get changed. We're headed for the heist." Neal looked at the agent seeing what had been placed before him. It was a pile of dark clothes, all black and a mask. Wearily he started to change into the clothes, Thomas watching his discomfort with pleasure. Finally he had finished dressing and picked up the mask. He knew doing what Gordon wanted wouldn't change anything but what choice did he have? Either way he was a dead man and his friends would be in danger. He was damned because he was a con and these men wanted to use his skills for their own selfish pursuits. He still had no idea what they wanted with the boxes, guessing that their acquisition was related to their need for the amber music box.

Thomas cocked the gun, bringing Neal out of his reverie and back to the present. He saw the agent smirking at him.

"I'm supposed to bring you up to speed on the heist. We're going to the Museum of Natural History. They have a Meso-American exhibit opening soon and one of the acquisitions is an obsidian and sea glass box. It's supposed to be very valuable for it's uniqueness. We know you've broken in before for some golden statuettes. This is your chance to do good for your friends. Get this box and Gordon says your obligation to him and OPR is over. Understand?" Thomas spoke to him as if he were an idiot but Neal nodded, his eyes glaring at the man. He knew better than to believe any word of Gordon's much less that of Thomas.

"Good, now study this map." Thomas pushed a piece of paper into the con's hand and sat back, gun still held steadily on him. Neal looked over the blue prints and found it would be a fairly simple snatch and grab. Thomas was right. He had been there before and he remembered the layout more or less from memory although it had been over 4 years ago when he did the original theft. He wasn't sure how Gordon knew about it since it had never been reported as a crime he had committed. Even Peter didn't know that one had been him or maybe it had just never come up. Regardless, he had to do this.

He sighed inwardly, his blue eyes hard and cold as he fought his emotions. He was damned because of what he was. His life wouldn't have changed had he been able to live with Kate. They'd have continued to be persecuted for things he had done even if their identities had changed. He'd never escape his past and to think otherwise was a fools errand. Mozzie was right.

"Caffrey... you ready? We're almost there." Thomas' voice broke his train of thought and he nodded. He watched the agent looking at him curiously.

"Cat got your tongue? I was under the impression you were the loquacious type." He was trying to read something into his current mood, Neal ignoring the remark as he psyched himself up for the theft.

"Just let me do my part and back off." His voice came across a little harsh, the agent blinking at him somewhat cautiously. It made him smile inside to think Thomas might finally find him '_dangerous_' especially after that incident before. It had felt kind of '_fun_' like a rush or something but he knew that wasn't him. He wasn't the violent type but Gordon had managed to screw around with him enough that he wasn't sure anymore what he was capable of. It was a scary thought.

He felt the van stop, Thomas picking up his cell as it rang and talking into it.

"Yes, he knows what's up. We're there now. Yes sir. Bye." Thomas looked up at the con and grinned.

"Well, looks like it's show time. Do your '_thing_' Caffrey and be quick about it." Thomas waved at him with the gun, motioning towards the sliding door. It suddenly opened, another agent with a mask outside, gun in hand. Neal grabbed a small bag of tools that had been in the same pile as the clothes. It was adequate for what he needed to do, surprised OPR would know such things but why should he be surprised. Mozzie always told him this kind of thing happened and now he realized how right his little paranoid friend was.

Neal slung the bag over his shoulder and exited the vehicle and found they were parked in an alley just behind where he was to enter the museum. The window that was a few feet up was the target opening. He made his way towards it.

**()()()**

Jones woke up to find his head splitting. Someone had clocked him in the parking lot when he left the FBI offices to meet up with Peter. He looked around to find he was in a rustic looking cabin. The room was a bedroom but he was lying on the floor along with one other figure. He managed to sit up and scoot over to the figure and saw it was Elizabeth Burke, Peter's wife. He nudged her gently and she gave a little groan before finally opening her eyes. She blinked and looked around then up at him, eyes wide and frightened as she realized what was going on. He helped her to sit up and started working on a plan to get them free. She realized what was going on and pointed at her purse with her head, Clinton scooting over and bringing it back. He found a small metal nail file in there and began working on his bonds.

It only took a little while before he was free and he had cut Elizabeth free as well. The door to the bedroom was closed and nobody was watching them. He made a motion for her to remain quiet as he looked around and saw the window. They quietly pried the window open and he helped her ease outside into the storm and they ran into the darkness to hide. When they were at the forest edge, she stopped him, wiping her wet hair from her face.

"Where's Peter? Is he still in there? Neal?" She sounded frantic suddenly but he held her back.

"I don't know but we need to get help. I know Peter said this place was pretty deserted but do you have any neighbors or a town near by we can run to?" He watched her in the dim light, lightning brightening their faces up every now and again. She shrugged.

"This is the first time I've been here so I'm not sure. We stopped at a convenience store some miles back but it was a good hour before we got here so it's probably too far." She looked frightened, staring back at the dimly lit windows of the cabin. Peter was still inside and possibly Neal. They could just make out movement near the front of the cabin. Jones made a motion for her to stay there and moved stealthily back towards the cabin. He peered through the windows and saw Peter laying across the coffee table, eyes partially open and staring. He looked dead until he saw those brown eyes move towards the window and look right at him. Jones blinked seeing his boss staring blankly back. He made a signal Peter would know and saw his boss blink twice back at him in reply. Jones made one more sign to be sure and saw the same reply, knowing that Peter was communicating with him before he moved back into the woods to El.

"They still have Peter. We need to get help before they figure out we're gone." He dug around in his pocket and found his cell missing, cursing silently. Elizabeth looked at him curiously.

"What's wrong?" She saw him looking back at the window they had exited.

"They took my cell phone. Did you have one in your purse?" He saw her nod in the dim light of the storm, motioning for her to stay as he made his way back silently towards the cabin. He opened the window up and climbed back in. He quickly pulled her purse from where he had moved it earlier and ducked back out the window.

**()()()**

Neal walked carefully and stealthily through the hallways of the museum. He was heading towards a particular office in the upper level of the museum that was protected by a high level security system. They had already given him the codes and other necessary means to get in. He just had to break into the safe, steal the box and get out. He made his way up to the office without any hassles, avoiding the few guards and cameras and arrived at the upper level offices. He punched in the code and entered the room, tools ready. He crouched down and removed the mask they'd given him so he could work properly. He had barely opened up the safe when the lights came on and he started, looking around fearfully.

"Give it up, Caffrey. We know it's you." The voice was familiar, Neal turning to see Hughes standing there along with two other agents, each with their guns ready. Hughes had them stand down, walking over cautiously. Neal remained crouched before the open safe stunned and unsure of how to respond. Had Gordon set him up? He was worrying about Peter and the others when he saw Hughes hold up his hands to show he was there to talk, alleviating some of the young man's fears.

"Caffrey, I know what's going on. Peter called me before you left for the cabin and when I looked into what was going on I realized he was right. I didn't want to see it but I realize my old colleague and friend was dirty. I'm sorry this happened to you on my watch." He sounded honestly contrite, crouching beside him and smiling, hand out. Neal took it and they both stood.

"Hughes, I... I have to take this back or he's going to kill them." His voice was quiet but full of emotion, Hughes nodding back.

"I understand that but I can't in all honesty let you steal this item. You understand that?" He saw the look on Hughes face as the director spoke, panic starting to take hold. If he couldn't take the box, how was he supposed to save his friends if it mattered at all? Hughes seemed to read his look and put a hand on his shoulder.

"But I can let you borrow it. We'll serve as back up along with Jones." Hughes smiled, Neal unsure what to say.

"Jones? He was captured with Peter and El..." Neal watched Hughes shake his head interrupting.

"He's free and so is Elizabeth. They said Peter is still with Gordon and his goons. We have the place surrounded and they don't know it. We'll follow you back when they take you in the van outside. Ok?" Neal just stared at the director unsure what to say but feeling a heavy weight finally starting to roll off his shoulders. So Jones and El were safe but Peter... He did his best to think positive and nodded.

"Thanks, Hughes."

**()()()**

Peter could finally do a bit of wiggling of his fingers but he remained still and sluggish looking to fool his captors. If they thought he was awake, he didn't doubt they'd make him suffer especially Gordon. He was moving his eyes to watch and listen as Gordon and the rest talked and moved around. He would remain still when they looked at him apparently doing a pretty good job cause they ignored him, spilling more info than any bug would get if it had been available. He was hoping Jones and El were safe wherever they'd been taken when he saw a slight movement out the corner of his eye. He made sure the agents were otherwise occupied and moved his eyes towards his left and the window.

Jones? He could see his subordinate's face outside the window illuminated at times by the lightning. He wanted to do something more than stare but he had to keep the ruse up he was still drugged and unconscious. He saw Jones make a sign asking if he was ok. When he saw the agents weren't paying any attention he blinked twice to Jones. He saw his colleague look a bit uncertain and make another sign for confirmation and he blinked yet again twice, seeing a smile from Jones before he disappeared. He felt relieved now that Jones was freed and wondered if El was too when he heard someone yelling.

"They've escaped!" It was the agent named Jared, mask off. He knew this one as Howell from the other day at the museum. He had sat in the back with him along with another agent named Thomas who had been driving. He had names now at least along with some confirmation they were manipulating Neal. He saw Gordon walk over to him and roll him off the coffee table, lifting him up and staring into his listless brown eyes. Peter saw the agent stare at him as if trying to figure something out then tossed him back to the floor.

"Find them! We can't afford a screw up now when we're so close." Gordon sounded desperate for once and panicked as the two agents with him left. Peter couldn't help but smile but it was a mistake as he felt a kick in his side and groaned. Someone crouched over him and lifted him up by the hair. It was Gordon.

"So, you're awake. Should have guessed. Doesn't matter though. Your wife and the agent... they'll be found, Caffrey will bring the box and none of you will ever be seen again." He grinned menacingly, dropping Peter's head hard to the floor before picking him up by one arm and dragging him across the room towards the fireplace. There were still a few small embers burning in the now low fire.

"I wonder what your pain threshold is, Agent Burke. I know your pet con was fairly quick to fold on his non-violent self. I wonder if I could get you to give in so easily?" Gordon smiled evilly, propping Peter against the wall of the hearth and holding him there with one arm squeezed against his neck as he used the fireplace tongs to grasp a smoldering ember and move it towards the agent's bare arm.

"Gordon… we couldn't find them." They both turned at the sound of the voice. Jared stood there looking at them both, his hair plastered to his head from the rain outside. Gordon stopped what he was doing, dropping the ember back into the fireplace to the relief of Peter although he tried not to show that. Gordon grinned, looking at Jared.

"Keep our guest here entertained. I know you have a few tricks, Jared."


	10. Chapter 10

**(Chapter 10)**

Peter collapsed against the floor as Jared dropped him there. He barely moved, face bruised, body limp, breath shallow. A trickle of blood dripped down his lips, head lolling to one side. Gordon walked in and smiled.

"I see you had a bit of fun with him, Jared. Where are the rest of the agents?" Gordon watched the agent shrug.

"Haven't seen anyone come back yet. Besides I was too busy with our friend here. He's a tough guy. Takes a lot to break him, sir." Jared kicked Peter in the side, no sound or motion coming from him except the soft rising and falling of his chest as he breathed. Gordon crouched beside the agent and poked him in the chest, a soft moan of pain finally rising from Peter's throat. Gordon smiled.

"I don't think you did enough, Jared. Doesn't matter. They should be back with the box soon and then the real fun begins. Throw him in the back bedroom and keep an eye on him."

**()()()**

Neal climbed back out of the museum window and made his way back to the van. Thomas was waiting, gun waving as he approached.

"Ah, the prodigal con returns. Get in!" Thomas held the gun on Neal as he glared at him and climbed into the back of the van. Thomas shut the door and held out his free hand.

"Hand it over!" The agent watched him as he passed the bag with the box to him. Thomas glanced inside briefly to confirm what was there then made another wave with the gun, Neal turning around, back to the agent. He felt his arms and wrists securely bound as expected.

"Looks like you did good, Caffrey." Neal was about to turn back around when he sensed movement, feeling the crack of metal against his skull. He slumped to the van floor, a ringing in his ears as he heard Thomas' voice echoing into the darkness.

"Sweet dreams, con."

**()()()**

Neal woke up with a horrible headache and someone yelling in his ear. It was a familiar and somewhat scary voice, one he knew he should be obeying but he was still too out of it to respond to.

"_Dammit Caffrey! Wake up_!" It was Hughes' voice Neal heard in his head and he was starting to wonder how he was channeling the director when he remembered something. Before he had left the museum offices, Hughes had given him a small two-way receiver. He had stuck the earpiece in where it wouldn't be seen. Apparently it had remained hidden and in place throughout whatever ordeal he had been dragged through. He opened up his eyes and looked around to find himself still in the van only alone. There was something stuffed in his mouth and tape pulled over his lips so he couldn't respond.

"Mmmph mmumph!" He said hoping it would indicate what was going on to Hughes. He just heard a sigh on the other end and after a few minutes someone pulled the side door open and Jones stood there. Neal blinked, watching the agent grin at him and jump into the back, several agents behind him with guns and gear.

"Caffrey! We were wondering where you were. We saw them go in but couldn't tell if they took you or not." Jones sounded fairly casual with a hint of concern in his voice. He began to untie the consultant before helping him remove the tape and rags. Neal breathed heavy, his head still ringing with the pain of getting hit with the edge of a pistol. He was going to have some choice words with Thomas if he ever had a moment alone with the man, but first things first.

"Pe... ter? Still in... side?" He huffed as he spoke, breath coming hard as he tried to stay conscious. Jones helped him out, calling out orders in a hushed voice. Someone with a toolbox walked up and started treating Neal's head. There was a bit of blood from a gash where the skin had broke, as well as a golf ball sized knot. Neal winced at the touch of something that smelled antiseptic, memories of his ordeal coming back. He stopped the man after a moment and stood shakily, Jones helping him steady himself.

"I need to go in... side and get... Peter." He had barely said that when he collapsed, Jones and another agent barely catching him. Jones shook his head.

"You're going to rest. We have all of Gordon's men minus the one that was back here with you. We caught the driver just now when Hughes heard your voice on the two-way. We think Gordon has at least one other man in there. Who was with you in the back of the van, Neal?" Jones was helping him walk over to another vehicle just out of sight. It opened up to reveal Hughes and an ecstatic Elizabeth.

"Neal!" She hugged him gently, only stopping when he winced some from his head. El and Jones helped him to a chair and she sat beside him, his head leaning on her shoulder as she caressed his hair. She looked tired, eyes red from crying and shivering slightly from being out in the weather. Lucky or maybe not so lucky the storm had died down finally but it would make hiding their team that much harder. Peter was still a prisoner, El suffering because of it. He grasped her hand in his and looked up at her guiltily. She shushed him before he could say anything but he couldn't help himself.

"El, I'm sorry." She shushed him again, continuing to caress his hair like a mother to a sick child.

"Rest, Neal. You're safe now." She sounded tired, her voice sincere but he knew she wanted Peter back safe. He wanted her to have him back safe. Neal shifted slightly, standing up unsteadily as El looked at him. Jones turned to see what he was doing but he held up a hand.

"I uhm... need to go into the woods if you know what I mean. Be right back." Jones glanced at him suspiciously but nodded after a moment.

Neal eased himself out of the vehicle, head still swimming. He passed a few other agents he knew and didn't know, making his way into the bushes and then back around to the opposite end of the cabin. In his black clothes Thomas had given him he blended in quite well, hitting the back window and glancing inside. He saw two figures in the room both with masks, one of them had a suit on and when they turned, he saw the mask looked like Peter's face. Thomas! Neal felt a raw hatred growing inside him, the other masked figure had a white mask, possibly Jared. He was about to do something when he heard the quiet rush of agents approaching the cabin. Someone threw a tear gas bomb into the front window and another into the back. Neal cringed a bit, wondering how this would damage the cabin Peter had inherited.

**"FBI! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!" **Neal heard the voice yell through a megaphone as he covered his face and watched the figures inside the back room. Nobody had noticed him yet so he snuck over to the window and started to climb inside, tear gas billowing out as he coughed, pulling his collar over his mouth and nose. He saw the two masked men, but they didn't see him in the confusion. The one he thought was Jared turned, pulling Thomas with him when he saw Neal. It was too late though, Neal jumped him and socked him in the face. The mask flew off revealing it was indeed Jared, the agent stunned. Neal grabbed the gun from Jared's holster and held it on Thomas, looking at the mask of Peter over the agent's face. He could feel the anger of everything that he'd been put through and held the gun on the man.

"Where is Peter?"

**()()()**

Hughes and Jones suspected Neal went to find Peter on his own, calling an early attack on the cabin. He warned them to be watching for Peter and Neal, causing as few casualties as possible. The team swarmed in, a couple of agents staying with Elizabeth in the vehicle. She worried, watching the activity on the screen with the two agents. She wondered if Peter was safe, worrying about Neal. He was impulsive and she knew he must have gone back inside.

"_We have Gordon and the box but no signs of Agent Burke or Caffrey_." The voice sounded like Jones with Hughes in the background. Elizabeth was listening as much as she possibly could, the agents responding as necessary.

Suddenly they heard gunshots. Jones came back, the sound of a gun cocking in the background.

"_Gunshots in the back of the cabin. Going to investigate_."

**()()()**

Neal held the gun on Thomas, the agent looking a bit worse for wear, mask still in place. It was Peter's face but not Peter. Neal felt himself cock the gun, the agent moving towards him slowly, unsteadily in the fumes of the acrid tear gas.

"Stop where you are! Where is Peter?" He felt his fingers tightening on the trigger despite himself, but the figure kept moving towards him slowly. Neal didn't back up, he just felt his finger tightening more on the trigger.

"Thomas! Tell me where Peter is!" He moved forward, gun aimed at the masked figure. He almost had the trigger pulled all the way back when he saw something strange. He turned on his heel and shot, hitting another figure. The figure fell to the ground and gasped, a curse leaving their lips. It was Thomas. Neal looked at the man grasping at his shoulder. If that was Thomas then... Neal approached the masked figure and pulled the mask off revealing Peter. His friend's eyes were dilated nearly black, lips covered in tape which explained why he hadn't spoken. Neal dropped the gun, hugging his friend.

"Peter?" He pulled the tape from his friend's mouth and saw the agent smile at him drunkenly.

"You saw..." Peter's voice was barely audible, the agent collapsing against him. Neal held his friend in his arms, looking up as the bedroom door flew open revealing Jones and crew. Neal froze.

"We found Burke and Caffrey." Jones moved forwards and helped Neal with Peter as the other agents took Thomas and Jared into custody. It was over. Finally over. Neal let Jones and another agent lead Peter and himself out of the room. There was an ambulance waiting, two stretchers available as he watched Peter placed on one. Neal was eased onto the other one. He kept his eyes on his friend as they were carried away. He watched Elizabeth run to Peter's side once they were outside and hug her husband. The agent was only semi-aware of her presence, El walking with the stretcher as they were pushed into the ambulance. Hughes made sure she was able to ride along with them, patting the young man on the shoulder before he was put inside the same vehicle.

"Good work, Caffrey!"


	11. Chapter 11

**(****Chapter 11)**

Neal rolled over beneath the covers and shivered slightly. His brow furrowed in his sleep, a frown on his face as his eyes moved beneath his closed eye lids. Neal murmured something silently, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his face. Someone reached down and touched his forehead gently, his face twitching in response. Slowly his eyes opened up and was vaguely aware of someone standing over him. His vision focused and he saw it was Peter. Neal looked up wearily, not lifting his head from the pillow as he stared at his friend.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" His voice sounded tired as he spoke, wiping a hair from his brow as he made an attempt to sit up. Peter sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

"Came to see how you were doing. June let me in when you didn't answer." Neal looked surprised, more so that he hadn't heard them knocking on the door.

"Sorry, I guess I was out cold." Neal gave a little stretch and yawn, pushing himself out from under the covers and sitting beside Peter on the edge of the bed. They sat there in silence a moment, Peter glancing sideways at the young man as if wanting to say something but unsure how to go about it. Neal noticed but he was uncertain of things himself.

"I..." They both said it at the same time, Neal looking at Peter who motioned for him to go but Neal shook his head.

"I'm sorry for not being there, Neal. OPR shouldn't have been able to get to you like that." Peter sounded angry, the fatherly or big brotherly vibe coming from him as he spoke. His brown eyes were shiny and intense as he looked at Neal and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. Neal put his hand on top of Peter's.

"It wasn't your fault. I should have called you back to confirm the message. I should know better by now but Mozzie says I'm getting _soft_." He shrugged a little, a small smile on his face. Peter smiled back.

"I think I know the feeling. Trust is a powerful thing and someone used it against us." Peter frowned slightly, his manner thoughtful.

"And Gordon was another Fowler with more power apparently. I'm wondering just how deep into OPR this operation goes. Someone had to have planned this out for all these leads to hide who the one in power is." Peter was beginning to sound a little paranoid, Neal smiling ever so slightly.

"Sounds like something Mozzie would be interested in exploring. He's good with conspiracy theories." Neal's tone was only half-teasing, Peter nodding at him with a fierce grin.

"If he wants to dig, I can use all the help to get this cleaned up. Hughes is starting to get in on the fun. He's going to support anything you and I find dealing with _Project Mentor _and the music box. It was a shock to find out his friend was involved; Someone he believed to be above reproach." Peter sighed, leaning back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. Neal nodded, leaning back as well.

"So how much longer in your '_leave_?" Neal turned his head seeing Peter raise himself up on his elbows and look at him.

"Another week. Think you'll be ready by then?" Peter looked at him hopefully, Neal shrugging.

"Maybe. It's been over a month and I still... I don't know, Peter." Neal blushed slightly, turning away as he rolled over onto his side. He felt Peter sit up and gently pat him on the shoulder.

"It's ok. Take your time. Hughes said to give you all the time you need but I really could use your help. Besides... " Peter paused, watching Neal turn and sit up again waiting to hear what he was going to say.

"El was wondering when you were going to come over for dinner again. She wants to borrow your palette for some recipes she's been experimenting on." He smiled at him, Neal smiling back.

"Hopefully not any of those caterers from last time. That quiche... I don't even want to think about it." He cringed sarcastically, Peter smirking.

"Yeah, and she thought it was just me and my _every man _palette. You were making the same face." Peter grinned, looking at the clock.

"So, are you going to sleep all day or are we going to go do something? I'm starved! El sent me away to come ask you to dinner before I could grab some lunch. What do you say?" He looked at Neal expectantly, the young man nodding.

"Sounds good. I guess I missed breakfast. Been doing that a lot lately. Let me jump in the shower and I'll be right out."

**()()()**

"So... what do you think?" Peter grinned as Neal gawked around the cafe. It was the kind of place he'd go to but it also had elements of a sports bar that Peter enjoyed, a game playing in the background on a large screen TV. He nodded.

"Very nice. Thanks for the invite." Neal sipped at his drink, a half eaten sandwich on a plate beside him. Peter sipped at a bottle of beer, taking another bite of his own sandwich.

"Well I figured it was a nice compromise." Peter clinked his beer to Neal's glass.

"A toast to middle ground..." Peter's toast was clear enough, Neal adding his own piece.

"And good friends."

**(the end)**


End file.
